Photo & Poem: Other


Stalking each other, the pale color of prairie
straw, she should be a coyote but her tail
has short hair, her ears are too wide. A howl
that ends with a string of low woofs. Moving,

she carries her weight heavy on her shoulder,
deep to her hip. Perhaps there will be young
this season or perhaps she carries another
weight. Approaching a stand of tall grass, she

wades in, pausing a long moment, and sinks to
the ground. Veiled watching has a kind of solitary
kinship, mine giving rise to a cool resonance with
one who is mongrel wild, for one who is other.


Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine Pro


    • Coyotes aren’t corgis. Who are we to say she doesn’t like solitude? Does our peaceful co-habiting count as long distance love? I have no idea but we watch each other.

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