A sudden surge tears through the underbrush
A tumbling tackle of growling fur
A cornered coyote attacked by my two dogs

I stand and watch
Like it's some nature show
More horrible in real life

Strange how long it takes
A good twenty minutes
They must edit those shows

He is wounded, wants only to escape
My dogs refuse, synchronously circle
One hundred and eighty degrees apart

He knows nothing of degrees
He cannot watch them both
So always, one unseen
Dives in to wound him more

Unlike him, I can -
Watch the whole show
From a safe distance

I do

Twenty minutes is an eternity
Death does not come easy

There are breaks
Like rounds in a prize fight
A minute or two for everyone to rest

He lies there in the middle
My dogs nearby
Everyone relaxed and panting
Like friends on a hot afternoon

Perhaps they’ll let him go
He tries but, no.
They continue the carnage

He inflicts a few wounds of his own
But the outcome is now becoming clear

Knowing this, he whines and begs
Like a pup crying for his mother
My dogs do not care

I keep watching

Finally it’s over
He lies there, mouth wide open
Showing his beautiful white teeth
Eyes wide open, showing what I have no wish to see again
His life flashing before his eyes
And mine

The whole time, I just stood there
Did nothing to assist the ****
or stop the violence
Remained on the safe sidelines
A ****** of violence

Only when it's safe do I approach
I take his picture
What was it the aborigines said?
“No pictures -
Your pictures steal our soul”

But I insist
I take the pictures
I steal the souls

His and mine

Cliff Perkins
September 13, 2016