Friday, September 29, 2006

coyote song

the percussive music of coyotes always unnerved Mary,
the leader’s ululating melody
with staccato counterpoint from the pack
seemed to nibble at the edges of her dreams.

at night the damage was invisible but come morning
when dreams are shaken out and held up to the sun
shadows fell in tatters on the grass, savaged by hungry teeth

1 comment:

  1. Dear me, what a wonderful poem.
    The last line kills me.

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