1.29.11

In the morning, before the sun, we listen to the coyotes. Joey cocks his ears to the wild howling of a language he’s never known.

Coyotes—
their pre-dawn yipping
stops us cold.

This entry was posted in winter and tagged , , , on January 30th, 2011.

4 Responses to 1.29.11

  1. Wendy says:

    In the sweet, old days when I had Goldens I always knew by the sound of the low growl and the raised hackles that the coyote was passing by. I wonder what ancestral resonance runs thru a dog’s bones at the sound of a pack of coyotes in full yip?

  2. mark says:

    I am always impressed by how you say so much with so little. You draw great pictures with few words.

  3. Pingback: The Greyhound Muse | Coyote Mercury

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