when you hear a solo coyote howling,
it’s just checking in with the rest of the pack,
letting them know where he is.
That's essentially what I do with poetry,
just hammering keys in an order
to let the world and some specific people
know what's going on, and where I am.
When I write, it's like barking
while defending a fresh kill;
this song is an indication or threat
that I have created something.
So, as the sunset colors fade from purple to black
and you hear an eerie sound break the forest calm,
it is yip-howl of coyotes, rising and falling in pitch,
punctuated with staccato breaks of the typewriter.