The Cry of the Coyote

You are riding alone in the cold crisp air
And the darkness has gathered around everywhere.
You're heading for home after riding all day,
With your reins held slack, as your horse knows the way.

Then off on a hill top not far away
There's a wild little wolf that has something to say.
It's Mr. Coyote who soon will be heard.
His message he gives though he speaks not a word.

A few short barks and staccato yaps
That startle your horse and rattle your chaps.
And following this a sharp shrill cry
That tingles your spine and pierces the sky.

The cry fades off with a mournful wail.
That tugs at your heart as you plod down the trail.
Then soon he is joined by a friend or two
And it seems the whole pack begins singing for you.

There's something about the coyote's cry
That captures your thoughts and you wonder why.
It seems to tell of the hunger and woes
That follow this creature wherever he goes.

Hated and hunted and poisoned and trapped,
Driven and chased, he's been forced to adapt.
With his cunning and wits to keep him alive
No matter what's happened he's learned to survive.

He's a thief and a robber, so I've been told.
He'll steal your chickens and your lambs from the fold.
But it somehow always gives me a thrill
When coyote's cry on a nearby hill.

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