Category Archive: Michigan

Barefoot dreams

Barefoot dreams A Story by Coyote Poetry Good places and friends make distance places good dreams in old age.      Barefoot dreams I met the Sergeant Major nightly at the Bowling alley, dance… Continue reading

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“You are gone and I’m here”

You are gone and I’m here. A Poem by Coyote Poetry No winner in war. Just shadows of people lost too soon.   (A photo found unclaimed on Writer’s cafe. It was famous… Continue reading

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Trying to lose your memory

Trying to lose your memory A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old poetry written in 1992                        Trying to lose your memory I tried to find peace and calm in the coffee houses of… Continue reading

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My favorite poem. “You are always on my mind.”

        You will always be on my mind The splendor of true love, Where you allow the wall of fear to fall completely down. Allowing emotion and desire to take… Continue reading

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Dark Interludes “Home” New chapter

Dark Interludes “Home” A Chapter by Coyote Poetry Another chapter. I hope you enjoy.                             Home Julie brought me into the small apartment. It was lightly furnished and had a small kitchen. It… Continue reading

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Tavern poetry. The best kind. “Anything goes”

Anything goes She sat next to me on the empty stool. Her sweet perfume I breathe in. I gave  her a big Michigan smile. She returned the smile. We talks and drank for… Continue reading

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The shadows of war

Shadows of war     I was a Soldier for almost 15 years. I volunteered for every dangerous mission you could be part of. The missions were to Africa, Bosnian, Central and South… Continue reading

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Some places are sacred. Like wildflowers. “I understand why we protect the wildflowers now.”

I understand why we protect the wildflowers now. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Wildflowers are protected in Michigan. Took me years to understand why.                  I understand why we protect the wildflowers now.… Continue reading

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No winners in war “Killed and killed”

Father died in 1996 at 61 years old. The war could not leave him. Heal, my friend. Not kill. Father song was hard and sweet. He fought hard, loved hard and died too… Continue reading

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Last person standing

Last person standing A Poem by Coyote Poetry Not a happy prose poem. A poem to create logic and question my friend.                                Last person standing I had a bad dream. A realistic… Continue reading

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