Slow Dance At The Edge Of Everything
coyotes never seem
to sleep now,
drifting in &
out at the edge of
concrete, sniffing behind condos,
always on the verge of
finding morsels or
collision in the stop
& go tango of yellow
cabs & buses.
tagged wildness.
taboo contact. a caste
of fur &
yearning. now I see,
frozen in the low
beams of the limping moon.
fear & awe slow dance in
my eyes. a corner
of crumbs & shadows.
windows glean shrinking
sun. I am the only
witness. grace
vises my wishbone.
the moment, already extinct, dives
into my deep end. aching
rises, breaks the surface.
breathless. tinseled.
the unpaved rib returns.
moonlight streams. coyote dreams.
a wide path Once
more. eye to eye.
at the edge of the concrete
hunger. blink. turn.