Coyotes
A poor chorus has gathered behind the hill.
Too close, scathing,
The shrieks and cries
Scratch the clouds from the stars—
Rain-softened scabs.
The moon bleeds and seeps
Into parched grass.
A poor chorus has gathered behind the hill.
Too close, scathing,
The shrieks and cries
Scratch the clouds from the stars—
Rain-softened scabs.
The moon bleeds and seeps
Into parched grass.