Somewhere near a coyote calls
Hopeless love for the moon above.
We put her in an earthen grave
And filled it with dirt and our farewells.
The coyote’s hymn infuses me
With melancholy. I am sad;
There’s discord clanging in my head.
A voice declares this should not be,
That I’m alive and she is not.
I flounder lost in nighttime gloom
Huddled in a darkened room
Recalling how she loved her cat.
The hapless coyote tries again
To woo the moon with ballads. Fool
He is to hope, for he will fail
To win the stony-hearted moon.