A chain-sawed log sculpture of a cartoon beaver in work clothes held up a sign.
"I Love Beaver!" A woman about to enter the store saw it and asked
"Isn't that also a crude innuendo?" Answered in the affirmative,
She shook her head in disgust. "And they're making money off of it."
The dun and honey straw grass stretched away to the horizon.
I looked at my feet and saw nothing remarkable on the cement ground,
One of those rare days when the world seemed more warmhearted
Than the people struggling to get by in it.
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