Johnny Appleseed sighed and pondered his pail of broken blueberries. “Davy, we ain’t doing so good.”
Davy Crockett chuckled. “No, John, we’re not.” He plucked and ate a berry.
Appleseed peered downslope at Anchorage, Alaska, at the Cook Inlet’s oil-slicked waters.
“What’re we gonna do now that we’ve paved the last frontier?”
Raven, perched high in a birch…