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Poetry
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Coyote Call
Persuade Raven Wing,
future legendary local,
to yodel the coyote call,
barks so deep in her throat
she might mourn a lost world.
Yet the yip-yip of the pups
trying to keep up,
confuse coyotes with a wicked wind
whipping its broad tail
across the desert prairie.
Cries rise high and lonely
in this sage-sea land,
persistent, demanding more work
than sane folks tend to shoulder.
Those who do,
the miraculous few,
stick with it,
amid muted beauty,
the flirtatious flight of a flicker
the stubborn stare of an antelope.
Angela Allen
Fields, April 17, 2009
Outside Miller ranch
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