Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously



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


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