Beasts by John Riley


And it must be faced
something wild moves through
your evening
perhaps a coyote
driven down from dry hills
has heard it is the night
you may embrace his embrace
or a fox fattened on dreams
will settle on your lawn
with no regard of stars
or wind or even the tilt
of the chimney smoke
remnants of your fire
or it could be just a crow
tired of the wire
fresh from a funeral
and an hour of cawing
at you beasts
padding by

by John Riley

Editor’s Note: The unusual enjambment pushes the reader off balance, yet is perfect for the narrative of this poem.

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