I do not know what I am looking for;
from day to day my inner landscape shifts.
I pass through one, and there’s another door
that may shield poison, pain, or secret gifts.
I see, though, who is loping by my side,
who has been there for what seems my whole life…
all trickster nonchalance, two-faced grin wide,
Coyote dances, yipping at my strife.
Confusion is his currency, they say,
conniving old deceiver that he is.
All I know is he tracks me, night and day,
misguiding me with sly catalysis.
My mountebank companion, sneak, turn-tail,
why did you choose to dog me on the trail?
(c) RCGA, 2013