If coyotes howl at sunset
why do we sit in silence?
Staring at our screens
or dumbfounded by our electrified darlings
we let the miracle pass
day after night after day.
That a nuclear furnace on which all life depends
some millions of miles beyond us
is passing once more out of sight
plunging us into dark from which we could
and we chose diversion
instead of braying into the dying light?
The creatures are more wise than I.
I want to strip down naked
and join the coyote clan.
I want to skulk beneath a barbed wire fence
leaving tufts of hair to mark the passing.
I want to move lightly over loose rock
and spiky ground
to gather on a height,
there to loose the cry
that would squelch the yearning
lodged in my chest.
Joined in song—this desperate song—
by others of my breed
To note this orange moment
this golden moment
this vermillion moment
this inky moment
this night of the full moon’s rise
Because it may not come again
And where would I rather be on my or the earth’s
than basking in that light
with all my wildness hanging out?