Coyote’s been singing through dawn,

calling sun back

from behind the mountain with quivering jaw.

She sounds young,

experimenting with her prowess.

Golden locust leaves hang silently, cold,

awaiting their restful drop.

The pale grasses sing too,

while sagebrush sustains Earth’s bass notes.

Turning of a new day can hold us,

more steadily than any mother..

we need only remember.