Paul Nelson: Coyote

Last December, just beyond the windows
where we stand with wine, she clawed
for frozen apples in her new coat
beneath the tree the children climbed.
Just bred we guessed.

I just wanted to caress her muzzle and ears,
lower my face to her eyes,
say something as if she were a dog,
something fatuous and loving.
You laughed because I said
I would take anything she offered,
teeth or tongue.

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