Existential Tucson
By Don Iannone

Reality falls heavy upon me,
like the trenchant rays of Arizona sunshine,
penetrating the existential being
hibernating deep inside me.
Even the gentle parched breeze,
blowing magical stardust
into my wistful wandering eyes,
can't stop what the sun has started.
I may never be the same again,
but then, what was I ever,
but a faint hopeful glimmer
in the numinous father's eye.