Coyote lopes toward ancient moon,
sheltered in numinous light
high on the dense chaparral,
brushed in California coastal sage,
ridgeline glowing pinks and purples.
Alpha-male howls at amber orb.
Its clarifying echoes
precursor of ancestral gold
coursing crimson through veins
flush now with renewed courage.
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This poem gave me a chill up my back, Julie. I hope our local coyote pack stays quiet in the upcoming nights.