We could be elsewhere but for the oaths we keep...

five coyotes wail in the thick white hills beyond the gulch ...

i like films where nearly everybody dies...

the feedlot down the road keeps five hundred black cows...

The late afternoon sun lopes up the road like a mad Labrador...

but for the children it remains empty...

who has not stood at the base of a canyon...

the gate neither swings nor closes but dangles there...