Nancy Guthrie Where Are You? Feb. 11, 2026

Gary Hunter
Feb 11
1 min read

years ago, I nearly moved

to those Tucson foothills

and spent a few nights there

the yip of coyotes was as feral

as the silence

stars as overwhelming

as the darkness

Tucson’s lights quivered

in the waves of escaping heat

so when Nancy Guthrie was

pulled from her house, it was

a wavelet in the stillness,

one ripple on a sleepy ocean

coyotes heard it

smelled blood they didn’t recognize

stopped the hunt in its tracks

aiming ears, flaring noses as

eyes watered into a stiff wind,

turned

and quickened their way home

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