The Desert Heat Kept My Coffee Warm

by Joe Milosch

On a hot August night in the desert,
I stood near my work truck,
It has been a long day at work.
I arrived at my mobile lab at 5:30 AM
and had been at it until 9:00 PM.
Closing my lab,
I hitched it to my truck
for the six-hour drive to the office.
Earlier, I had slipped behind the wheel,
thinking that I would die for some coffee.
Reaching for my cup,
I found it full.
I felt blessed, knowing
it was a testament
to how busy my day had been.
Turning off my truck,
I stepped outside
and leaned against my front fender.
Watching the stars,
I realized how sweet the sand and cactus smelled.
I listened to the desert’s breeze
as it walked through the deer weed and chamise.
I wished my wife was here to hug me.
I didn’t want the hug I received in church,
or outside a restaurant, or at a wedding.
I wanted the hug that made me feel
that I would live a long time
among the odors of her hair
while she enclosed me
with the warmth of her body.
That feeling was the sensation
that the desert gifted to me
that night after a long day at work,
and it calmed me
as I watched the stars and drank.
After I finished drinking,
weariness settled over me
like a cloak of cool air.