Says Who?
I doubt it meant anything to the folks down in the valley, to those in the city of angels, or even those behind the orange curtain but, over here against the foothills, I could never be sure that I would not suddenly be singing in the rain. Alas, (alas?) the threat of those darkening clouds was all bark and no bite.
As he loped along ahead of me, coyote was not so sure; our race would have been epic but, as I drew nearer, he veered off into the brush, feigning to seek shelter from the storm. Earlier, I had caught him in the act, spray-painting a message on the concrete. Was it meant for me? No, I mean, was it meant for me! He is always trying to egg me on. Coward, all talk and no action, let the competition get a little too close and he is all, "oh, sorry I don't want my hair to get wet", and off the trail he runs to hide. Reminds me of someone in the White House. But that is another story...
texture
ripples
yellow
the straight and narrow
the darkening
sand land
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