You come into the
yard,
Along the stream’s
edge
Sniffing
Watching
You don’t carry yourself
stealthily
But sometimes what
looks like “frisky”:
Front left paw bent
out at an angle
Is, perhaps, Stealth
in disguise?
I know you’re a “He”
You look directly in
my eyes
Unabashedly, deeply,
One pane of glass
And seven yards of
grass
Are all that
separate us
Oh, I’ve seen You
before
Several months ago
You followed this
same path on the edge of the lawn,
But then You were
headed north,
Not south as You are
now.
And hey, weren’t You
the little one
Who crossed the road
before me in the darkened street
One
Night
last month?
I saw You.
Yes.
As I paused in the
middle of my paved road -
The asphalt that
bisected your woodsy journey -
I watched You
Watching me,
Halted
Yes, we looked each other in the eyes that
time, too!
Your kin who dashed
headlong into the woods
Adjacent to my
cottage,
That was not You;
That coyote was
bigger,
Older,
Wearing the scrawny
over-thin body and
Too-thin fur
Not You, little one.
You look fresh and
new.
Your body has grown
bigger since last we met
But your fur is
thick
Luxuriously clean:
You do not look
underfed
Are You eating those chickens again?
I eat chicken sometimes, too; though I cook
mine
Or is it the rabbits
You prefer?
“Rodents,” You say?
“Well, which ones?” I
ask.
Do You actually taste the difference or
Is the fullness of your belly your simple
criterion?
You are coyote.
Not the wily one
Of my cartooned
youth
Instead, You are the
one who visits
And your presence
offers me joy
Wild One with daily
routines –
On the few occasions
they’ve coincided with mine,
Bring me great
pleasure
I hear You, perhaps,
and your pack
Howling,
I see your scat
scattered all over the adjacent forest
Please come visit
again:
This is my mantra –
I welcome You
(revised
version of, “Ode to the Young Coyote,” posted 16 Sept 2011)
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2016 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
