Coyotes tonight

I’m pretty sure, not 100%.  Very high, howling, whoo whoo whoo, ooon.  Then nothing for a bit.  Then again, a minute or so later.  Heard from inside the house as a holler, as if maybe a person yelling very loud, but when you stop to listen you know right away its not a person, but dogs out there.  Far away, it seems, to the south.   Across the river maybe, though maybe not.  You can hear the river, usually.  You can hear it tonight, except you’re listening for the coyotes, so the river isn’t noticed. 

Then there’s the other dogs around, barking, yelping even, maybe trying to match the coyote’s tone.  But you can tell they are dogs because they are barking, not howling.  Loud barking, loud squealing and yelping.  Bigger dogs, smaller ones, here and there around the neighborhood.

Sunshine, the labrador next door, is inside.  Probably she notices, but pays little attention.  I’ll have to remember to ask if they heard the howling, and was it coyotes?

A List

A list of the names of the

names of the war operations from 1990 to present day
names of the medicines I take
names of the dead I have known
names of the fortunate among us
names of the world’s richest men

names of the plants I want to grow
names of the flowers I want to see
names of the bulbs I have already planted
names for the colors they come in

names of the dead
names of the lost
names of all my five senses alive —
names of the mountains around this place
names of the leaves
names of the lost
names of the leaves that have not yet fallen to the ground

names of my dead
names of the prophets
the twenty-seven names for God.
the twenty-five ways of looking at a blackbird
the names of the dead
names of the lost
the names of the songs I forgot I knew
names of the songs I know by heart
the names of the songs I don’t

names of the poems that I have read
names of the poems I can say by heart
names of the poets I have admired
names of the poets that I have known
the names of the dead poets that I have known

names that I might have named my children
names I considered then at the time
names that I wish had been my own
names of the birds, the stones

names of the types of my apple trees
that I have cut down so far —
names of the mushrooms, the plush rooms we saw at
the Buckinghman Palace
names of the lost, the missing
names of the known