Every day, I feel
the reaper.
I’m not sure
when I started
to feel
this way.
Probably
when I was
about four.
I want to rock ‘n roll,
I want to boogie
and shake my booty
like the little
boy bopper
I was, and am,
before the reaper
takes it all
away.
—Stacey Warde
They run like ghosts
the coyotes
twirling from head
and tail
turning with the swift fury
of the stirred dust devil
and just as quickly
stopping
on a small outcropping
with a sharp stillness
to gaze and make
contact, to let
you know they’ll be
gone in a flash,
just like you, leaving
their markings
in secret places
of the field.
—Stacey Warde
