Coyote’s Call

Through vicious, angry, howling winds touched by the intense heat of a dragons breathe

I lie, lie in a canyon of lost, long voices, vanquished by the dark within

I am a murmur of howls skimming through air, as if a stone slicing water

I am a teasing Felix, waking things up like a locust at a green shoot

My eyes bear the laughter of Apollo, twisting colossal flames that squirm into an open dry forest

Each of my claws with specks of grit, an omen of lies and trouble

But it is said, I am a guardian of exaggerated fires

A combination of both words that can erupt, and words that can be swollen by an enormous tsunami

My breath is Cleopatra’s whisper