I would write about wolves
or rather, the wolves as we see them
but I have never seen a wolf.
So instead I will write of coyotes,
which
for that matter
I have not seen often, either, but rather perceived
a form, stippled with shade, vanishing into the trees
the wild night noises intruding upon my dreams
a golden-eyed dog by the side of the road
that's not quite a dog.
The sum bits and pieces, I suppose,
make up a whole coyote,
the detached voice sewing together
the hide and the tail and the paws and of course
those eyes.
Less noble, perhaps, than their cousin,
but still – a single jigsaw coyote's worth more
than all the imagined shadowy wolves
conjured up by photos and words and my mind.
And as long as I've seen those eyes...