since i ordered the way of coyote from the library last week, it arrived in the mailbox today from the u.c.press, my review copy. i believe in precipitating things even if they are coming anyway. good things come my way even in the time of no reply. we have a slinky sun shade dappled elusive history with coyote in the city. we see them rarely nowadays, i think because they are more wary as human constructions spread vertically and horizontally, and they become more necessarily integrated, with the lightest tread, on their own ghost trails, leaving scant traces. we're mostly invisible too, though we pass through the ordinary human ways.
we leave a soft trail of breath in our wake, a time lapsed blur only coyote and people of the way can see.