We drove in search of scenery
native to our southern California

We trodded down the dirt paths
among plants whose names were lost
and quelled by history
here given back
not by scientific categorization but by
the cathartic heat that whispered
of the past and its abiding
presence  

here I snapped the cord
and named the unlisted
parts of me until I
clearly recognized the snapping
of summer's end

soon the leaves
would crisp but
the heat would remain far
into winter I see her eyes twinkle
under the palo verde trees and I know

it never severed the
funis
from my naval, it extends
beyond death, further
than the desert plants
that her and I see on our hike