Poem 20160124

he had the feet of a snake
and the wings of a hare
like many desert creatures
carried a pack of brambles
on his back to capture
the morning’s moisture

i asked
–old man, why do you toil
setting stone upon stone
every day when the crows
steal them at night
and carry them to the ocean
where they drop them in

he placed yet another boulder
upon the pile
dust covered his face
his hands were those of a coyote
he laughed
–to bring water to the desert

Poem 20141116

Did a ton of yard work yesterday and I was too tired to even think about writing a poem.  We’ll see what I can squeezez out today.

The coyote stopped
Stared into the flashlight
While we crossed the street
It’s coat was grey and shiny
It looked well-fed
Though I hadn’t heard about
Any missing pets

It kept its distance
We kept ours

The dog on the end of the leash
Who can’t see well in the dark
Didn’t catch a scent of his distant, wild cousin
Or there would have been whined greetings
But I think
The coyote appreciated
Our giving him his space
And he turned
And prowled the perimeter of the bushes
Looking for dinner