Please excuse me
while we stop what we are doing
to listen to the sound of coyotes
on this cold and moonless night.
At first it could be mistaken
for the high pitched laughter of the neighbor girls
playing volleyball in the yard
just up the road from the house,
or the giddy sound of hysterical revelers
at a party on somebody’s back deck;
but, then again, perhaps more like
some freaky version of the music of the spheres,
or the shrieking of locomotive brakes
on a runaway train
hurtling down the tracks
under a blank midnight sky.
Really – a sound so primal and so wild
it will make the hairs on your neck stand on end.
Even the dogs hasten to come in
from the dark, cutting short
their usual bedtime routine.