The Coyote
A shadow moves...
just outside the light of the fire
Darting into then out of sight,
moving,
always moving...
With a flick of a tail,
but not a dog...
Scratching somewhere in the distance,
digging,
digging for bones and relics of lost gods,
Neither prey nor predator,
I am but a shadow,
waiting,
for a moment to come,
and to pass..
I am the bait-thief,
I am the wanderer,
I am the trickster,
I am the coyote.
2 comments:
Nice one, Edward. Evokes images of the foxes that come up out of the Moonee Ponds Creek valley at night.
But not a fox. Less literal. More metaphor.
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