Magic Is Always a Thin Layer Away in New Jersey

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Coyote appears

And walks across Janet’s yard

Onto Nancy’s lawn

(Faded russet and white fur

glistens in morning sun)

Carrying a Princeton squirrel or a

Black feral cat in her mouth

I cannot tell

I can see only helpless legs

Trickster

More at home in ochre and sienna desert sand

Than blue and green New Jersey streets

I stand still and watch

As she approaches me

and passes

Spilling unsuspected, spirit magic

Corn pollen prayers remain

For days until absorbed

By mundane suburban soil

Still, I do no open back doors for my cats again

Michele Bouchard lives in West Windsor. She is studying painting at Mercer County College and is a member of the West Windsor Senior Center writing group.

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US1 | Issue 10/21/2026

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