I hear the first yip-yip-yip, there
barking from the South, chuckling to the East
coyote summons North with one syllable drawn
into an impossible vowl, and the West
is brought into circle by laughter and yodeling
sliver of moon takes its time with the night sky
near and dark winter, these voices
like ghosts circle in waves
make galaxies overhead a cathedral
awaken me from deep sleep
pull that long note from four directions
here the long quiet night interrupted
season of departure and darkness, season of death
winter is a time of hibernation, restoration and beauty
why take the dark to mean anything other than this?
why make incubation and birthing, deep winter
menacing, humankind at its own center
questions where to fit into the cycle of life
when you kill yourself, do you take my love with you?
do you take your love of the sea and your blue eyes?
do you kill yourself for relief or to inflict even greater pain?
does killing yourself make you happy? When it comes
to this, all I can say is I love you
this drowning will pass