Invocation
Invocation
The scent, the chase, the wound, the rain—
here lies
the sandhill crane that I became—
I, Coyote,
most at home on the road
possess the ghosts
of Hermes and of . . .
. . . . . . .
[ subscribers: login for full text ]
- Login or register to post comments
- Email this page
- Printer-friendly version