Road draws northeast. I follow her curves, wait when she waits, admire the view, places
where light falls like breathing. You hold it in your hands as you drive, hold light in your
hands like fire. I stop the truck, grab one foot of the pup,and toss the body into the grass,
that also breathes, and I look back, only once, at the eyes of the pup that are closed,
against fire, against light.
