And the Coyote Howls
The coyote's lonesome lament
becomes a plaintive wail,
as the open sores upon his soul
rise to the heavens
in spasms of great sorrow.
And the silent voices of mankind
wait for another to scream
enough.
Within this slow swirling storm of silence
more babies, each day, are sacrificed
in the name of free choice.
And still only the coyote howls
as the babies
die.
Mankind's silence only sanctifies
this ritual,
this human ritual,
of killing our offspring
before birth.
I can hear the coyote's howl.
It drifts into the village
where I hide my soul,
as I sit muted
shame bowing my head.
Bobbie Kilzer Gogain
2/03/98