The Dead Coyote

I pulled my car up to a post marker off the side of the highway,
and there hung a dead coyote. Its head was tied to the post with bailing wire

His face was covered in blood
and his glassy eyes were still open staring at the broken sky.
its tongue was hanging out and drizzling.

I feel anger and sorrow for this murdered creature.
I wanted to untie his body and bury his soul somewhere remote.
a secret place where he could rest.

The coyote, a friend, but they stuck him on display
wasting his life away. They cut his ears off at the base
for some sort of bounty for the local BLM.

I can’t stop seeing into those glassy eyes and into the shadows of the beast.
Hopelessly hanging there, fur whipping in the wind. I’m connected to its death.
cold blood moving. the breathing is brittle and short.

As I looked at you coyote I felt the sorrow of this world.
Those damned cowboy men with chewing tobacco, leaving beer can trails all over
are bloody murderers and thieves of this ancient land.

They mock the very soul of this beautiful wild.

The Thing With A Personality

There’s a feeling deep inside every human being,
a tiny suspicion about something that lurks around in reality.
It cannot be seen nor heard, because it hides itself.
It can visit you with it’s clues!

It’s the abnormal shadow in the green trees.
It is in those abandoned hills, and in the darkness of an attic.
It loves the moonlit night with an eerie presence.
It loves to hide at the bottoms of the ocean
like the white whale that killed Captain Ahab.

It is in Grandma’s old cellar.
You can feel it while looking at a crystal waterfall,
or down an ancient highway with weeds growing from it’s flat top.

There it hides in the corner of your heart, taunting your might.
It would like to reveal itself to you.
And someday it will on a mysterious afternoon,
in the right place, at the right time. You will get to meet it.

The Bear – A True Story

Today I sleep away in this slumber
and awoke to a footstep and then another

My campfire was still smoking.
The morning light was close but an not quite.
The blue haze of the night lurked around my tent.
The wind dashed through the trees.
Then the clouds under the moonlight slid
silently over the mountains.

All alone, I had wandered across this countryside,
and then rested away in my camp.
The fire burned, and danced through the night.
I made it very big to keep me from fright.
This was a deep cemetery of trees! Very old they were!
I had traveled through them, like a trance.

Now I am in my tent and I have awaken!
This footstep fear is in my veins, and I tick with fear.
What is out there? I worry myself as I soon
remember I had left my food out over the night.

All of a sudden I can hear a curious snort!
My dinner pan bangs on the ground.
I can hear licking from a snout,
and grunts from some kind of beast.
What is it? What is out there?
The furry thing moves about.

I can hear him in the early light. What should I do?
I do not want to move,
cause I feel stiff! After a moment,
I Slowly and cautiously get up
and take a peek through the screen
of the tent and there in front of me is a Bear!


I watch in quiet bewilderment
he doesn’t know I am here.
He is eating my food, piece by peace.

The fear is still in me.
I rattle the tent like a bush
and make strange sounds,
as if I were a beast too.
The bear stops in his routine and stares at me.
He is now frozen with fear.
The black bear’s eyes are stuck,
then like a flash of huge thunder
he takes off running into the forest,
and then he is gone.