Quarry

Camera in hand,
I chased a coyote through dry brush,
Over two ridge lines
And into a valley,
Where she lost me for good.
In a sweat,
I plopped down, frustrated.
I complained to myself.
At last, I looked up
In a field of yellow wild flowers,
Sagely nodding in the breeze.
I chuckled.
Lesson learned,
I gathered them up in a single frame
And returned home.

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