In the middle of the funny semi-desert mountain
canyons where there isn't a great deal of shade
or shelter at the height of the day and the big
black beetles dig tiny holes in the scraggy rock
sides and the coyotes cry and laugh like children
and keep the gate, Elke has just learned that her
heart is not made of fire.

It was the coyotes that told her, giving her sideways
looks out of their skinny little too-big heads and half-
smiles or not quite smiles or leers depending on how
you sensed them, depending on how they sensed you.
They smelled of offal and rotting but also of hay and
of heat and of dog smells.

11/26/2013

Posted on 11/26/2013
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