Coyote laughs as he wanders into the city.
Ancestral, remembers when it was
his, stars in velvet.
Full moon a circle, fast food over the
creatureless eyes move ever closer.
Grandmother Spider's webs
through westerly waters.
Thirsty ground, drinking too fast,
Pennies drop into hungry slots,
minerals torn from the
Coyote tilts his head to listen -
London Bridge is falling down.
In the distance, the city
seems to sleep
Sometimes, death is more
(c) 20 July 2015
Inspired by He Was 65, a work by Fred Mecklenburg