“Armadillo”
Armadillo
I squish through
henbit and moist soil
under moonlight, slowly
taking the usual path,
intriguing cats who think
they might soon be fed
and startling an armadillo
digging for grubs or worms
in the yard, ensuring that
it will continue being soft
and moist.
She’s a frequent visitor,
nearly at times earning
a name, an honor not
even given to the cats I feed.
The distance increases,
nightly pulling, stretching.
The air is cold and heavy,
the armadillo a distraction
from the fear and frustration
I find myself falling toward.
I’m anxious to see Mom,
the path has turned to gravel
and the house seems further
than it was last night,
when the armadillo was on
the other side of the yard,
making a racket through
last year’s dry leaves
still undisturbed where
they fell, spilling out
around the trunks of trees.
One day, the nights
will be for sleeping
and everyone will be whole.
Written April 2018 in Payne County, Oklahoma.
Brian Fuchs, “Armadillo” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)


This has been a difficult week for me. On the 28th, I lost my kitty Franz who was born in my living room 16 years ago. He has been a part of so many moments in my life. I’m not sure how to express how much he has meant to me, but I can tell you that his absence is very much noticeable. I miss him. I miss him waking me up in the morning, cuddling with me while I watch TV, and greeting me when I walk in the door. I feel guilty that I couldn’t keep him alive, and the whole week has felt like such a blur.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Christmas music, especially in the car. I love it. I look forward to the switch to all every year, and like everyone, I have some favorites I’m excited to hear.
I personally think they should change it.
The Great Seal of the United States, which can be seen on any one dollar bill, is beautiful. It features an eagle clutching an olive branch in one talon, arrows in the other talon, thirteen stars above the eagle’s head and a banner in its beak with the motto e pluribus unum written on it. The olives, leaves, stars, and arrows all number thirteen to honor the original colonies. The reverse features a pyramid with the Eye of Providence, featuring annuit cœptis written above and novus ordo seclorum written in a banner underneath. These symbols on our seal feel very american and very much a part of who we are. The flag, however, is not that. It has no motto written across it and the name of our country does not appear at the bottom to remind us of what it is for. We don’t need that reminder, and because the flag is so simple, and fantastically so, neither does anyone else.