the recessional coyotes.
It’s a rumor w/ believable origins:
a couple deer hunters, deep
in local woods, stumble across—
like intruders on a sacred burial—
hundreds of tiny dog leashes.
Hundreds might be an exaggeration,
just like Bigfoot’s social etiquette
at town-hall dances, but I do know
that the coyotes are roaming in
residential neighborhoods— eyeing
all the pet dogs as late night take-out.
There’s been a few coyotes
floating around my grandparents’ place.
They’ve even come up
to the back door.
They’ve after Willie,
the wiener dog.
Late Fall in Ohio & it gets dark
Because of the stray coyotes,
I volunteer to drive the tractor
out to the shed—40 yards
from the house.
I got the John Deere’s hi-beams on
& I notice the neighbor’s house
is in complete darkness.
Both their cars are in
the driveway. They’re home.
Then I remember hearing that
the ol man lost his job as a
school janitor a few months back
& the wife just got laid off as an
They’re both staggering—w/ assorted
ailments—to their mid-60s.
They’ve been paying interest
on the house for 10 yrs & now
the real payments kick in &
they’ve shut off the lights
to save some extra dough.
Living their golden years