Friday, April 26, 2013

s p r i n g

in the pasture behind our house
in the bright light of a full pink moon
coyote sits and barks with authority
barks like a dog with a bass note
coming from his belly
climbing to a soprano note
as it reaches for the stars
and then
as in an aria
the voice in chilling refrain
hits the high notes of a
trilling ululation
like worship in the night
like mourning for the life it's taken
like joy for the grass and dew
like breathing ancient rhythms
like a moment standing still
the cool spring evening air
sweetens the night theater as i fall