Love how this poem intersects time and place. Was reading today about the ghosts and bones of the indigenous dwellers who were massacred in places I take for granted, and somehow this poem reflects that reality perfectly.
Ah ha! But coyotes aren't fantasies up here on Mt. Davidson. Do you hear them howling over your way? Eerie sorta' wail, especially on a dark, foggy night!
You're right, coyotes are far more than fantasies, here, too! But my imagination took over! And, yes, I see and here them frequently. They have den up on the hillside below the Potrero Rec Center.
Rickey?!
Term of endearment! It's all Andrea's doing. She started it long, long ago.
Love how this poem intersects time and place. Was reading today about the ghosts and bones of the indigenous dwellers who were massacred in places I take for granted, and somehow this poem reflects that reality perfectly.
Thanks so much Elizabeth!
I think the city is a great muse for you. I love what you've been writing!
Thanks Meg!!! Yes, I needed something stir things up, and I believe the city is doing just that and then some!
Seems like someone needs a fly fishing trip!!!
Indeed. Couldn't come soon enough! Memorial Day weekend on the Deschutes River, OR.
Well done Rickey!
Ah ha! But coyotes aren't fantasies up here on Mt. Davidson. Do you hear them howling over your way? Eerie sorta' wail, especially on a dark, foggy night!
You're right, coyotes are far more than fantasies, here, too! But my imagination took over! And, yes, I see and here them frequently. They have den up on the hillside below the Potrero Rec Center.