COLLOQUY WITH A COYOTEKi-yoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo!
Speak now, O coyote, rumped upon the knoll! Into the bowl of desert night— Clinking and cool with stars—oh, roll The melancholy of your soul. When sentimental with the moon, you cry Your longing to the lady in the sky, Know that you do not grieve for her, alone, That your deep yearning, sprung from blight Of solitude, is tallied by my own. Speak then, O coyote, speak for me; With your seductive melody cajole The lovely one to be more intimate, invite Her to linger for a moment of delight. The virgin, you, and I—we threeOn such a night should be more neighborly.
In the homeland whence I came, a solitude Dark with its regiments of lancing pine That march from peak to water-line,
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