The Coyote’s Soul


She was there when he breathed his last

That by her hands he died in vain

And as his blood poured out his cask

She watched him cry so hard in pain.

At night she no longer had good sleep

Her eyes learned how it was to weep

And in her dreams she saw his tears

She saw him let go of all his years.

Her heart could take no less than blame

Of what she had done to him in ache

Her wrath that had them burst in flame

Became the root of her biggest mistake.

She sat and stared at the moon so dark

And listened to the coyote’s bark.

Should she repent, she needed light

Or the coyote’s soul that’s fearless throughout the night.


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