Coyote Voices

/ Laura Grace Weldon

coyote poem

Feral

 

Moonlight leaks through the curtains.

I lie awake, listen to coyote songs

circle and connect, stitching together

the night’s raw edges.

 

Each time I hear their howls

my bone marrow sings.

What’s muzzled in me lifts.

I seem silent and still,

yet my pulse races through the trees.

Laura Grace Weldon

 

Originally written for the Peace Postcard Project, published in Shot Glass Journal.  Find more poems in my collection, Tending.

 

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