Fairy Tale
I took the ditch path back the empty lot across the graveled patch of scutch grass, musk thistle, the fox squirrel .22ed and rotting, coyote scat pebbled with undigested pustules of huckleberries. Pollen-scattered air. Busted beer bottles, lottery scratch- off tickets, chicken bones— alone, I followed my ear: thought of you then got over it. …