Though can't tell from looking,
Not one camel or scorpion or sand,
I was almost took in,
Until my first July day in that town,
Had to walk extra slow,
So hot you could fry eggs on the sidewalk,
Junk-packed yards with no concern for the snow,
There're some clues of the desert if you look,
Like the drunks on the street,
Not fettered by the need of keeping warm,
Desert dirt caking feet.
Oh, and sand storms,
Dust walls way, way up far,
You can lay concrete to cover the ground,
But nature ne'er let's you forget where you're.
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