Coyote


“If the mind is like a hall in which thought is like a voice speaking, the voice is always that of someone else.”
      — Wallace Stevens

Unravelling beauty in the imagination,
like the halls where sleep answers in a voice that is not our own.

The portmanteau of amber fur
mixed with black,
the white of the eyes
surrounded and circular.

He pads forward         adagio
a tender velour of mouth
and a cackle in the hedgerows
thrusts its call toward our ears,

in which          the prosthetic leg of night
coasts into ground’s well-hollow,
more of a pond
than blanket of darkness

where           he swims with tail in tow,
the prodigy of all those who adore
blackness.

But before that,
he stands upon two almond feet
kingly
       abated
and presents me with silver:
a soft slink
      of god-knows what –

      a gift,
or something else?

Β© Eve Redwater 2012

Advertisements

35 thoughts on “Coyote

  1. I think it’s a lovely description of a regal animal. You made him proud! Coyotes are not often treated so kindly. I really do like the way you presented his essence here.

    • Thank you George. Sadly, no, they’re not treated that well sometimes; but I believe that there are a lot of people in the world that appreciate them for the beautiful creatures that they are. πŸ™‚

  2. Yes, Eve…As Dickinson would say: my head’s just been taken off. This is something else entirely. Something all its own…on its own. For me to just experience and not deconstruct.

  3. wow..this is a gorgeous capture…fascinating incident as well….i love seeing animals in the wild…

    a tender velour of mouth
    and a cackle in the hedgerows
    thrusts its call toward our ears

    i just love the way you use words….

  4. You’ve very certainly caught the mood and landscape of seeing nature reveal herself in all its intensity and attraction. You’ve done so with some alluring stanzasa that capture the beauty of the animal and that mysterious something that defies being put into words.

  5. a very majestic capture of the beauty…also love the start…the halls where sleep answers in a voice that is not our own…. makes a very effective connection to what follows..

  6. As someone else above has said, I can’t deconstruct this (I’m not very good at that anyway!). Seriously good, Eve. I just want to take it all in. Enough said.

  7. Ethel once wrote a poem about a coyote who stood its ground in front of her on her daily walk.
    the prosthetic leg of night
    coasts into ground’s well-hollow,
    more of a pond
    than blanket of darkness
    The creativity of these lines is powerful like the coyote that Ethel described in her poem.
    I just think the world of your poetry.

  8. Evie, There is nothing better than the actual experience to inspire your inspired words. Thank you for illuminating this experience of yours! Wryly, in the future I would like to see you write a macabre piece about how these fellows eat people’s little doggies and kitties. (Do they do that there as well?) πŸ˜‰

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s