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in the 3:30 a.m. sounds I opened my window to the coyotes.
they managed themselves in the backyard.
my side window.
i wanted to talk to them
about their crowded angst
their lack of a plan
their side of the story.
how it is the men are winning? and
is there enough room across the bridge and between the trees?
the middle of.
i valued their perspective
and their secret narratives
of a bad rap
with no plan.
we had pine trees at the end of my street
when i was a kid.
well worn paths and sandy trails, pinecones and parallels
to the 7 eleven and onward to the people.
we had no plan
my neighbor.
but lets ride
past the trails and past the woods
where there were probably
coyotes once
wandering and winning.

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