Photo belongs to City of Deerfield.
A gaze so portentous,
a growl so pernicious,
and he just sauntered on,
the heedless coyote.
He’d trot over my chattel,
languid as all hell.
And I was frozen in fear,
fooled by the trickster.
I locked the doors,
placed window boards,
and all to keep him out,
this wild wolf thing.
By day, he’d run through the street,
looking for his meat,
then circle my house,
the crazed canine he was.
Each morning I’d find tracks,
scaring the crap out of this prairie lass.
He left me huddling alone,
the mangy jackal.
It was in my bizarre dream
(things were not as they seem);
she brought her prey back home,
the nurturing mother she was.
I awoke to feed my own babe
to watch certainty evade.
Her tracks led up to us,
right up to our toast and jam.
Nothing made sense now,
but clearer somehow.
Trepidation turned to awe
kneeling at the prairie wolf’s paw.
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* Enlightened Eclectic (personal writing challenge): Write 365 nature-themed meditations, poems, and/or hymns over the next year.
Kristin D. Jones is a deprofessionalized academic, deschooling mom, and author of Goddess Grove.
Filed under: Earth, Enlightened Eclectic, Fire, poetry, Yule Tagged: coyote, Enlightened Eclectic, fear, motherhood, nature, outdoors, parenting, poetry, prairie, prairie wolf, solstice, wild, winter, wolf, writing, writing challenge, Yule 
