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Coyotes in the Vineyard

For Miranda

There is a captivating charm 
In a viticultural landscape, 
An ancient grape vineyard 
Where symmetry abounds. 
In the time after harvest, 
When the commotion settles, 
The last irrigation begins, 
Before pruning the grapevines, 
Cutting back the brown cane. 
We are waiting the arrival 
Of the first frost, 
To redden the leaves. 

Late at night, the moon was out, 
We made love in our bed 
In the old farmhouse. 
Curtains on the windows 

That look out to the vineyard, 
The Chinese Tree of Heaven, 
Were drawn, the room was dark. 
An unexpected event happened, 

In the generous behavior 
Of the golden jackal. 
A baying pack of coyotes 
In the vineyard were barking howls, 
Yelps and high-pitched whines, 
Tail-wagging and muzzle nibbling. 
Coyotes, who bring winter 
Into the world by stealing the light, 
Tonight, are hailing the arrival 
Of the soul of a tender heart 
That came to our house 
By way of the grape vineyard.

--Stephen B., Adult