Coyote Meeting
In fields of country wheat,
from the corner of my eye,
In amber grains discrete,
a Coyote stood chest high.
Nostrils flared,
with eyes in constant search,
Horizons scanning,
poised to quickly lurch.
Collar bristled in the wind,
he quickly turned away,
A scent of prey he’d just inhaled,
lured him to the fray.
And as he swiftly disappeared
to meet his destiny,
I turned to meet my own again,
now filled with jealousy.
There is a call he answers
that I feel inside of me
Amidst a lack of freedom
I have known.
Commitment, obligation,
and responsibility,
The life, I feel, that’s chosen me;
the one which I now own.
But we each knew
for just an instant,
as he took his flight,
we both would howl,
for different reasons,
at the moon tonight.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2020
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