Poetic Journey - Little Coyote

Little Coyote

A stream crosses my backyard

In a land 

Which holds water prescious

The Little Coyote

Blesses me.

In the hot August days

It sneaks at the bottom of its bed

Calling me to its banks

To see if it is still there

It lingers

Its pace downhill slowed.

Winter it hides

Under layers of ice and snow

But come spring

It crests

Filling bank to bank

Speeding toward its big brother.

I beg it to stay

Please little Coyote

Stay full til June

To July and the monsoon rains

hold tight to your banks

Stay in my yard.

J. Binford-Bell  -- April 2010

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