The First Coyote

The First Coyote

Shadowed by trees, it was alert,
Watching those on the porch.
Tall, thin, a knife sharp gaze,
This coyote knew its way around.

The startled man cradled the cat
And called the nervous dogs back
Inside the house, far away from
This lurker in the evening woods.

Was it waiting for a squirrel or
Rabbit? You couldn’t tell this far
Away, yet clearly it was patient
And after tonight’s dinner.

How else could it survive
If not for foraging here and
There, waiting for a quick
Capture, meat for a day or two.

This was the first coyote seen
In the neighborhood, and now
I open the window late at night
To listen to it sing to the moon.

 

28 thoughts on “The First Coyote

    • Hi Gavin. I’m delighted that you loved this particular poem. Coyotes are fascinating and a bit frightening and that makes them great to write about. I’m glad you could visualize the images so clearly. Thanks for your comments. 🙂

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    • Hi. Thanks for visiting my blog and reading through some of the poems. Poems should be original and true to the ‘voice’ of the poet, don’t you think? I’m so pleased you feel I managed that. Your comment is much appreciated, Oliviero.

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  1. I really respected your view on this creature, it was a really thoughtful way of looking at it. I used to live in a woods, spiders were a real problem in my house, and coyotes were known to slink around. I had once gone out to the backyard where I saw my dog standing still gazing into the eyes of a wolf like figure. I called her inside before it could get much farther, and that night I was still mesmerized but the way the coyote’s eyes had glinted in the shade of the trees.
    QS

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  2. I open the window late at night To listen to it sing to the moon.

    I’ve seen one but he must have been passing through. I would have loved to hear his song at night. I’ve been looking over your blog and must say I have a great respect for your work. Lovely. I’ll be back : )

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  3. You honor the coyote in your poem. I appreciate that. It must be tiresome for this poor trickster to always be viewed as less elegant than a wolf and less loved than a dog, and yet, like them, he’s just trying to survive. I once nearly ran into one while out on an early morning run and was amazed at how intelligent he appeared as we looked into each other’s eyes.

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