Coyote

On a little knoll,
On a barren land.
The coyotes came,
To make their stand.

On Grandpa's Hill,
Is where they prowled.
In groups they sat,
And there they howled.

When the moon was bright,
In a distant haze.
They came at night,
In packs of strays.

On a certain spot,
When the night was young.
They yipped and yapped,
And wildly sung.

On Grandpa's Hill,
In their shaggy coats.
I listened...and listened,
To the elusive coyote.

E.P. 1908 - 1989