January Pre-Dawn

Early morning
stars,
so sharp
they cut through
the blue-black back drop
of icy air,
hang above

staccato yips and cries
of coyotes 
so close,
as if I could 
nearly 
reach them
if I stretched – or

perhaps they could reach me, teach me
the desperate, wild
longing
in their cries

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I look
to the sky
as I draw the dark
around my shoulders

With a shiver
I contemplate
the cold, impossible light
of stars
so fair
so far
away

Here we go…

Photo from Public Domain Images