Adamant

"Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art
And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart." — John Donne

 

You following that slat-ribbed coydog down the interstate right now?

Ain’t no towns for miles, just fences and cattle, while the sly grey dog lopes west, lost as the sun.

Semi-trailers and campers, pickup trucks and seekers, late in the summer, pass the dog however hard he runs, his loose pink tongue a ribbon soliciting some secret charity. Pay him some mind if you also pass by.

Don’t matter...