A warm afternoon in October.
The day considers getting hot,
But decides against it in the end.
Riding my bicycle west
Puts the late day sun in my eyes.
I ride that way anyhow;
Some people are like that.
Pulling over in a piece of shade,
The ice water in my bottle
Tastes like the love of heaven,
But then, of course, this is heaven.
Other people have their own stories,
This one is mine.
A coyote walks unknowingly toward a man.
He is a hungry and lean animal.
This man has a hunting rifle and is downwind, hiding.
He raises chickens and pays taxes on the land.
Who is the hunter and who is the prey?
Above this scene, dusk deepens into night,
Crickets sing. The Sacramento Valley.