She says the desert
is oppressive
refuses to plant roots
in its unrelenting heat
but this is home

where desert flowers thrive 
in places others 
would quell and wither
and by grace 
of the universe’s 
expansive arms
renews each season
flushing her mountainous silhouettes
in glorious greens
dotting her rocky face 
with lavender and amber brush
tawny orchards bursting with citrus
wild vermillion and azure 
spread like linen across 
her warm beating chest
‍
So she can have 
the cooling grays
of the city
its lights drowning out 
the moon’s phases 
‍
while I stay here
cradled in the arms
of each renewing season

A Cabrera's poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in The New Guard, Brain,Child Magazine, Colere, Acentos Review, The Berkeley Fiction Review, Best Travelers' Tales 2021 Anthology, Mer, Deronda, and other journals. Her short fiction has been nominated for a Pushcart Award and adapted for stage by the Bay Area Word for Word Theater Company. She writes, teaches, dances and ride bikes in San Francisco, but not always in that order.