Ötzi   My father taught me how to hunt. He showed me how to read the signs of bison, deer, and ibex, to summon their spirits, know their ways. He taught me how to know their fear, their hungers, their habits. He taught me how to make a bow from seasoned yew, a string from sinews tightly wound. I learned about the shining stone and how to work the things we need — blades, scrapers, points for arrows. I became a man before I had a beard, and ventured far and wide, into the high mountains, beyond where I should go, to where the devils are — countless times I dared to come here alone. This is where I die.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont April 2018