Like discovering water on the surface of the moon —
sometimes love finds you in the beautiful desolation
of a dark and empty heart. No river, no lake-
filled crater, no rain to streak the lunar sky, just
a meager film of dew laid down in endless night,
but gather up the spread-thin droplets on the freeze-
dried ancient sea — oh lonely sky-flung traveler —
wet your long-parched lips, slake your love-
foresaken thirst, and drink in, too, the light-
pulsed words that shine across space and time
like the bright and smiling face of the full moon
that casts its glow upon the hills and lakes,
coyotes and junkyard dogs, soldiers and sailors
and ships at sea, and lovers strolling hand in hand
on the tide-turned shores of a far-off watery world.
Archive for coyote
Sometimes Love Finds You
Under an August Moon
Coyote, wise old trickster
shuffling ‘cross the road
under an August moon,
you look a little shaggy,
a little grayer,
but you and I know
the best blueberry patches,
the way across the swale,
how to step light
over a thin crust of windpacked snow,
when to chase
and when to lay in wait.
The moon casts
reflected sunlight
on the old familiar trails,
as the summer night
gathers memories
of distant, bygone loves,
and traces a crooked path
upon my dark betrodden heart.
