The Ranch Writers Club is a group of writers who have a passion for writing. We support any activity that will enhance our writing skills. For more information, contact Chuck Coxe at [email protected]. The following was written by club member Scott Hopkins.
Coyote and Me
On the leeward side of a Mesquite, I was still,
Clenching my teeth against winter’s chill.
My leg busted, like hell it hurt,
My mind feverish, but senses alert.
Across the arroyo perched in a tree,
A Great Horned Owl watched over me.
First came the howl, then through the brush,
A beast appeared with cautious mistrust.
A body lean, fur mottled tan and gray,
Had he seen me tossed from my bay?
A morning of tending fences along my spread,
The horse had shied from something not dead.
Neither Great Owl nor I cared to blink,
As the coyote approached in a slink.
I yelled at the beast to get away,
But this coyote was determined to stay.
I threw rocks and made threats with my Winchester gun,
Knowing full well on my horse it was slung.
Then Coyote said, “I’m scrawny and meek…
Does that worry you, since you look so weak?”
I knew coyotes to be clever and cunning,
But speaking? Was that my fever running?
“I’m not afraid of you,” I declared,
Although, we both knew I was scared.
“Perhaps, if you were dead, I might scavenge your meat…
But for now, conversation is all that I seek.”
“Tell me, Coyote, what do you want?”
“Why are you here?” he replied in a taunt.
“This land I own, for it is mine,
“So, I am resting here for a short time.”
“Who gave you this land?” he said with a grin.
“Perhaps, javelina, bobcat, deer, or even the wind?”
“T’was government, bankers, and other such men…”
“All strangers to me…Perhaps, you recall when?”
“No,” I said, “since it was years ago…”
“Perhaps, I ask my brethren who may know?”
“No brethren is needed…For this land is mine, so I attest.”
“Perhaps, you own nothing and say this in jest…
Understand, we coyote live in the breeze,
Running, chasing, and going as we please.
Your presence is a worrisome lot,
For your kind would have us shot.”
“I promise your brethren no ill,
“Coyote can live here as you will.”
However, my offer Coyote did not trust,
Knowing men hunted for food and lust.
“Perhaps, we’ll wait for nightfall,” said he,
“And then settle whose land this should be…”
Then from the scrub came a thunderous crack,
Coyote disappearing, tumbling back…
Perhaps shot, perhaps not,
I will never know…
For Great Owl sailed from the dry stream,
While I fell into a dark, dark dream.
Later, I awoke secure in my bed,
Among family and friend in our homestead.
T’was my neighbor who saw us in the brush,
And rescued me in a violent rush.
My leg well-tended,
I was soon mended.
On my porch at fading daylight,
Lonesome howls in the twilight,
Running, scavenging after some poor beast,
Knowing this land is only mine to lease.