We, like the coyote, think
we know the habits of this world:
death and taxes with certain diversions
that make predictable politics
like foreplay for Wall Street
eager to screw the future
into submission. Coyotes
make their living on the details
overlooked and discarded,
keeping to the periphery
and singing into darkness
while everyone’s asleep.
What you say is true regardless of one’s political affiliation.
The poet sees the bushy tail moving through the tall grass hunting the field mouse and is content with knowing the world needs such wild things . . . Thanks for the Coyote poem . . . It’s a gift!
You’re welcome, Peter. I’d much rather deal with the appetites of coyotes than the charades of those in charge at the expense of our future, etc. etc. Old enough to recognize familiar patterns, their irresponsibility vexes me, obviously.
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I’ma keep a good thought this morning so I will leave no comments on wall street. Evocative poem.
Wall Street’s not all bad, it’s their ethics in need of repair–too busy trying to keep the stockholders happy — who are just about anyone with a retirement plan — for the short term, often forsaking a longer view. I got to have my political rant and it fell right in my lap.