Coyotes

Forlorn barking laugh

Flying through the trees to break

As a bone with all the marrow

Licked out.

Dry as a late summer,

Cracked and splintered

Falling

On these old drums, the steady

Beat of fear echoing through

The pine, as darkness rises from

Its bed of rusty needles, wiping

The last of the twilight from

Its eyes.