Dianne’s fingers pierced an orange.
The car filled with a citrus smell.
A miniature Wild Turkey bottle
started our litter collection.
A coyote trotted up hill away from our approach.
It topped the ridge and looked back.
We counted thirty-two bird nests.
And thirty-two fearfully glaring mothers.
We drew twenty-seven fish symbols
swimming down the sandy arroyo.
An unleashed Jack Russell approached us.
Its owner shouted from a distance He is friendly.
One metallic Happy Birthday balloon
hovered above a rabbitbrush patch.
Sixty-six colorful plastic bags of dog poop
highlight the trail sides.
Nine blue paper face masks
dotted the accumulated litter we toted to the can.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney