Once a coyote flew through here
The nights of her rein
Published in
Sep 11, 2024
I saw her at 9pm.
At 6pm.
She would fly across the street.
Then look at me, from beyond the trees.
Her eyes glinting, reflecting, back at mine.
This was her realm.
Her rein.
Her queendom.
She was young.
She minced no words with me.
This coyote of the night.
Each February winter, I watched her run across my path.
Her path.
Her queendom.
Her rein.
Her realm.
Now her path is gone.
They paved up paradise and put up a parking lot.
She’s out there still.
A queen now, elsewhere.
She will run again.
Across the starry night.
For eons to come.
This queen of the night.
Once a coyote flew through here.
