A DIM lithe shape moves over the mesa, Roves with the night wind up and down; The light-foot ghost, the wild dog of the shadow, Howls on the level beyond the town. Cry, cry Coyote! No fellow has he, with leg or wing, No mate has that spectre in fur or feather; In the sage brush is whelped a fuzzy thing, And mischief itself helps lick him together. Up, cub Coyote! The winds come blowing over and over, The great white moon is looking down; In the throat of the dog is devil's laughter. Is he baying the moon or baying the town? Howl, howl, Coyote! The shadow-dog on the windy mesa, He sits, and he laughs in his devil's way, Look to the roost and lock up the lambkin; A deal may happen 'twixt now and the day. Ha, ha, Coyote! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMMORTALITY by EMILY DICKINSON SEA POPPIES by HILDA DOOLITTLE TO THE NIGHTINGALE by ANNE FINCH THE WILD HONEYSUCKLE by PHILIP FRENEAU THE VOICE OF SPRING by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE PHILOSOPHER by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY |