On whisper paws, coyote prowls,
scanning fields in evening’s hush,
hunting rustlings in the brush.
Lonesome in the dusk, she howls.
In the shadows, one, then two,
then choirs of calls from hills unknown,
assure her that she’s not alone—
Arooooo! Arooooo! Arooooo!
text © 2018 by Jennifer Cole Judd
by Jennifer Cole Judd
The Pack
22