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Christmas Coyotes

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  • carol_emt87
    Under a cold sky on Christmas Eve, the last crumpled oak leaves fall on freckles of starlight. To the east, a chorus of coyotes rises. With yip and howls, the
    Message 1 of 3 , Oct 4, 2012
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      Under a cold sky on Christmas Eve,
      the last crumpled oak leaves fall
      on freckles of starlight.

      To the east, a chorus of coyotes rises.
      With yip and howls, the dogs crescendo
      their cacophonous song.
      We listen to them sing no more than
      a few yards behind the house
      in the dark and bristling trees.

      I imagine their excitement,
      hunting with glowing eyes
      and restless paws like
      my jubilant young boys
      on Christmas morning.
      The boys stalk silently
      under the tree
      their small hands and shining eyes
      prowling between mounds
      of bright packages.

      Across the road, the coyotes
      bring down a yearling deer.
      Under the pink wisps of sunrise,
      steam rises from the fawn
      as the song dogs feast.
      As the sun winks up,
      they abandon their kill.

      Their hunt over,
      the boys wander into the den.
      Sipping hot coffee as sun spills in,
      I sit on the floor surrounded by the
      eviscerated carcass
      of Christmas.
    • suzianne411
      Dear Carol, You hit the mark with this one. The contrast of children ripping into Christmas packages and the coyotes bringing down their prey is vivid and
      Message 2 of 3 , Oct 5, 2012
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        Dear Carol,

        You hit the mark with this one. The contrast of children ripping into Christmas packages and the coyotes bringing down their prey is vivid and something to which any mother can relate.

        Well done!

        Suzianne

        --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "carol_emt87" <carol_emt87@...> wrote:
        >
        > Under a cold sky on Christmas Eve,
        > the last crumpled oak leaves fall
        > on freckles of starlight.
        >
        > To the east, a chorus of coyotes rises.
        > With yip and howls, the dogs crescendo
        > their cacophonous song.
        > We listen to them sing no more than
        > a few yards behind the house
        > in the dark and bristling trees.
        >
        > I imagine their excitement,
        > hunting with glowing eyes
        > and restless paws like
        > my jubilant young boys
        > on Christmas morning.
        > The boys stalk silently
        > under the tree
        > their small hands and shining eyes
        > prowling between mounds
        > of bright packages.
        >
        > Across the road, the coyotes
        > bring down a yearling deer.
        > Under the pink wisps of sunrise,
        > steam rises from the fawn
        > as the song dogs feast.
        > As the sun winks up,
        > they abandon their kill.
        >
        > Their hunt over,
        > the boys wander into the den.
        > Sipping hot coffee as sun spills in,
        > I sit on the floor surrounded by the
        > eviscerated carcass
        > of Christmas.
        >
      • carol_emt87
        Dear Suzianne, I m glad you like my poem. We were standing on the deck listening to the coyotes sing rather close to the house. The poem came to me the next
        Message 3 of 3 , Oct 6, 2012
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          Dear Suzianne,
          I'm glad you like my poem. We were standing on the deck listening to the coyotes sing rather close to the house. The poem came to me the next morning almost fully formed. I struggled a bit with the ending. Tried several other phrases before settling on the "eviscerated carcass of Christmas." I think it's a pretty fair comparison.
          Always,
          Carol


          --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "suzianne411" <suzianne411@...> wrote:
          >
          > Dear Carol,
          >
          > You hit the mark with this one. The contrast of children ripping into Christmas packages and the coyotes bringing down their prey is vivid and something to which any mother can relate.
          >
          > Well done!
          >
          > Suzianne
          >
          > --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "carol_emt87" <carol_emt87@> wrote:
          > >
          > > Under a cold sky on Christmas Eve,
          > > the last crumpled oak leaves fall
          > > on freckles of starlight.
          > >
          > > To the east, a chorus of coyotes rises.
          > > With yip and howls, the dogs crescendo
          > > their cacophonous song.
          > > We listen to them sing no more than
          > > a few yards behind the house
          > > in the dark and bristling trees.
          > >
          > > I imagine their excitement,
          > > hunting with glowing eyes
          > > and restless paws like
          > > my jubilant young boys
          > > on Christmas morning.
          > > The boys stalk silently
          > > under the tree
          > > their small hands and shining eyes
          > > prowling between mounds
          > > of bright packages.
          > >
          > > Across the road, the coyotes
          > > bring down a yearling deer.
          > > Under the pink wisps of sunrise,
          > > steam rises from the fawn
          > > as the song dogs feast.
          > > As the sun winks up,
          > > they abandon their kill.
          > >
          > > Their hunt over,
          > > the boys wander into the den.
          > > Sipping hot coffee as sun spills in,
          > > I sit on the floor surrounded by the
          > > eviscerated carcass
          > > of Christmas.
          > >
          >
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