Coyote Moon

It's Poetry Friday!  Hooray!

Last week I had this idea for a poem to go with a picture.  Actually, I had taken the dog out, and heard a band of coyotes across the road, down in the river flats just below our house.  They sounded very close and were probably on our neighbors property just across the road.  There are lots of trees out here, and lots of dark with no street lighting in our village (if we were even in fact in the village).  The sound of coyotes when you are out by yourself in nowhere is beautiful but eerie.  I brought the dog in.  Later in the evening when the moon came into view of my big windows, I got this picture with my iPhone.

Later I put the two events together, along with a third event that occurs regularly here: the sightings and sounds of owls.

I immediately thought "gotta write something about this".  And it was so clear in my mind that I knew I'd be doing that for Friday last week.  And then Thursday night and Friday morning do you think I could remember what the great idea was?  Of course I couldn't.  I should ALWAYS be unsurprised and expecting that of myself by now.  But somehow I always think "I couldn't possibly forget this - not this time, heh-heh!" and take myself seriously.  Seriously, how could I do this more than twice before I'd remember the kind of person I am?

Anyway, I finally DID remember when I was scanning my pictures and came across the one I've posted below.  What a relief!  The poem did not come as easily as it probably would have if I'd written it right away.  But still, I enjoyed the journey.  It started out simply, got extended with garbage, and continued with some potential parts.  I cut out the garbage and the simple beginning and worked on and reworked the potential parts, until a reflective, reverso poem emerged.  It was a bit tricky in some parts and had to be tweaked quite a bit.  That included zapping some lines I thought should be there, but really only because I liked them.  The poem didn't.  Once I got rid of them, the flow was much better, and it made sense and said things in an uncontrived fashion forward and backward - the most difficult thing about a reverso or mirror poem.

Reflections of a Coyote Moon

With the night


in tune 


to the moon, 

coyotes croon -


echoing


as


owls


go gliding


on a hunt.


Smallish creature,


one of tasty feature,


snatched -

taloned 

breath;


No

tomorrow!

No


breath.


Taloned,


snatched;

one of tasty feature,


smallish creature


on a hunt.


Go gliding,


owls,


as


echoing


coyotes croon


to the moon


in tune


with the night.

©Donna JT Smith, 2015

<<<<~~~~~~~~~~****************~~~~~~~~~~~>>>>

The unfortunate thing about this remembering of potential poem is that I saw turkeys - 16 of them - on my foresty lawn last Friday morning also, and I thought (and so did they) that surely I would write a Thanksgiving turkey poem in their honor today.
But then I remembered the idea about the moon and coyotes at a time when it seemed such an exercise in futility to remember it!   So it seemed only right to post the reverso poem now that I remembered what I was going to write about.
So now NEXT Friday, stay tuned for a turkey strut!

(Unless I don't because something else comes to mind.)
16 turkeys in the yard...
I think I overheard one turkey asking another "Are we eating as we meander or meandering as we eat?"
As they pecked around in the leaves and grass, Mr. Thomas Turkey (I'm sure that's what his ID tag said) saw some movement (probably from us in the window watching).  He, Old Big Tom (that's what his friends call him), stretched his neck up to look around.  Two more joined him.  Then a few more, until the whole flock had their heads in the air looking around.  We kept very still and one by one they resumed eating and meandering or vice versa.  Then the one who had first thought he discerned danger, decided he was wet to the down feathers, and shook like a dog.  After he had that great idea, they all took turns shaking the water off their feathers, some stretching their wings out, too.

And as suddenly as they had appeared, they disappeared, walking off into the woods...kind of like in "Field of Dreams"...gone without a trace, invisible in a matter of seconds as they blended into the browns, grays and blacks of the woods.  But I heard them exclaim as they meandered out of sight, "Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good night!"

Head on over to Carol's Corner to read more poetry today...spend the weekend!