
As winter recedes we find bones along the beach. The dog gnaws some of them, but not the coyote skull with its long canines and nasal passages packed with a delicate fretwork of turbinates.

She guards her bones jealously–
and then suddenly abandons them, bursting up the hill at high speed: small red rocket running into the light.

There goes the quick, you say, after chewing over the dead.
