Category Archive: coyote poetry

My grandfather’s rose bush…

    My grandfather’s rose bush My grandfather loved his roses. He would care for them and ensure they survived the Winter. He was a story-teller and he loved his story of the… Continue reading

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You are my Springtime…

You are my Spring time     Cold days and colder nights, heavy clothing burden, I shall forget. You stand in the April sun, showing me, tender shoulders blessed by the sun and… Continue reading

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Everyone is a river

Everyone is a river A Poem by Coyote Poetry A poem, for new book, The Island.                                     … Continue reading

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If I could, I would…

If I could, I would. First words and last words, we cannot forget. If I could, I would go back in time, spend more time with dear grandmother. She called me honey, dear… Continue reading

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A beautiful day, a wonderful night

A beautiful day, a wonderful night     (Kosinski- “We are here in the company of death.”)     The raven hair beauty, she danced with the evening shadows. The sun and moon, were… Continue reading

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A safe place, a kind face, maybe?

 A safe place, a kind face, maybe? Someone told the loneliest lady in the bar. Johnnie wanted to die alone, with Jack Daniel and Jim Beam as his only friends. She stood behind… Continue reading

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You are my lake Gichigami prayer

(mariareginapittemonteiro) You are my Lake Gichigama prayer     Once we danced in Paris, once we fell in love in Basel and once we loved the big cities and the sea. Kelli, Kelli… Continue reading

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Free-falling…

Free-falling (A unforgettable muse) Once we were the crazy ones. We believed in love and we believed in forever. We were sweet Summer red wine and discoverer of new and unknown places. I… Continue reading

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For Joan

Dear Joan   Thank you dear lady of kindness, lady of peace. Beautiful and kind Joan Baez. You stood for love, today and yesterday. I love your face of today and of yesterday.… Continue reading

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We get what we deserve

 We get what we deserve I wrote on the bar napkin, a name of a kind woman who is dead to me now. Once the Bacchus wine made lovers of us, we were… Continue reading

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