Aquí

He wanders through the crooked streets that mimic river beds Before and breathes the anxious air in traffic filled with tension left from wooded crossroads in attack He shops the windows, happy, where the stalking once was good and his kitchen floor is built on bones of venison once gently roasted. "It's a good place for a party!" he concurs to friends now dressed in jeans. The ground was already beaten smooth and festive by the joy of ancient dances. He feels the warmth, and doesn't know his soul is filled with the spirit of coyotes past.