The fall is approaching,
Ever so gradually,
The Coyotes know.
Summer memories are warm and sweet. I wanted to share a poem even while fearing once I let it out I will be unable to ever outdo it in feeling and depth of myself immersed therein.
Coyote Night by Mary Gerdt * 2008 all rights reserved
When we walk down a road in the dark,
And the Coyotes are crying their mournful cry,
The smells of summer drift and hang in the valley
And little night birds chirp goodnight.
The stars peek out from the clouds of August mist
The moon hangs over the hills by home.
My memories fade to days gone by
When we looked at the nights from inside.
Now we walk on the path outside
Not afraid anymore.
While the coyotes cry.