One knows they've crossed the Arizona line
when first they come upon the eerie sight-
a tall saguaro's gentle open arms
whose welcoming seems more that just polite.
A closer look reveals decaying holes,
each filled with nesting birds that come and go.
The shelter of its needles, and some height,
protects them from the predators below.
So recognized, its candelabra shape
can mask its age, a hundred fifty years;
perhaps there's fifty more of heat and wind
before this mellow giant disappears.
A hillside grove, saguaros by the score-
let all who visit share its keen rapport.
Jack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana.