As kids
we played in fields
miles and miles of of planned and planted crops
that held within them
hidden wilds
At night
I lay in bed
terrified of the coyotes howling outside my window
prowling fields and stalking through tall weeds
sniffing out the mice and ground squirrels
chasing cats and lurking
hunting creatures of the night
fearful creatures of the darkness
One night,
I woke to the howling
I listened bravely,
braver than before when I would hide under the blankets or call for my mom
I peaked out of my curtains into the dark
and there
immediately
were two yellow eyes staring back from the dark
I saw the faint gray of fur
saw its mass and presence
but then it blinked
and startled
and instantly faded into the night.
The next day
in the mud
just on the other side of the fence
I found a paw print
just one
a mark
that she had been there
two eyes
one paw
At night,
I heard the echoes and howls that sounded like a million imagined wolves,
giant snarling beasts fighting and hunting
hurling themselves against the fence
fangs and blood and wildness
At night
when I took out the trash
I ran like hell to the can and hurled the bag inside
panting when I got back to the front door, in the light
But that paw
in the mud
was so small
so
delicate
Weeks later
riding the bus to school
I saw a coyote
in the early morning fog
thin and small
rushing across the street and
almost struck by the bus
It ran into the orchard
the bus driver cursed under her breath
It was so fragile
how could that be so frightful?
Is fear this thing?
This monster in the dark but in the day does it run
from shadow to shadow
malnourished
with its tail between its leg?
Can it be hit by a bus full of children?
Does it lie in the ditch
and slowly bleed to death
after it misjudged the speed and distance and tried to make it
a tuft of hair stuck in the corner of the bumper
leaving nothing but a print in the mud
a small print
the only clue that it walked silently in the night?
