Monday, August 25, 2014



Perplexed, he stops,
gazes this way
and that. Vast
stretches reach out
everywhere, in all
directions, unfamiliar.
Even Coyote’s famous
inner compass
is awry. He is
lost. He paws at
the ground, sniffs
at the air, pricks
up his ears for
a trace of sound.
Nothing. Clouds
gather, even
his shadow is
erased. Fear
rises, soon a sense
of growing panic
in the belly. Then
he remembers: un-
certainty is the only
certainty; remembers,
breathe; remembers,
when lost, create
a path to anywhere,
no matter where,
and take it. This
is the adventure.

THE QUESTION (with acknowledgment to Ken McLeod)

Who is this
Coyote, Coyote
asks? He has
no answer.
Tortoise asks,
when you say
“Coyote,” who
exactly do you
see? He says,
first, he thinks
to see the image
of who he imagines
himself to be.
Then, actually,
come to think
of it, he sees
nothing. Still,
the question
continues to echo
in his mind.

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