Like father.
Like Father… A Poem by Coyote Poetry Do we become our parent? Do we follow their footsteps. Like father. My father, like most men. He learned to hide is sadness and disappointment. He… Continue reading
Tag Archive: love
Jenny wrote.
Jenny wrote. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Words can be magic, can be visions of beauty and can make us dream. Jenny wrote. Painted words are what the writer understands. Wisp and grasps… Continue reading
I wish I was the morning sun.
I wish I was the morning sun. I wish I was the morning sun, be able to sun-kiss your skin. I wish I was the summer rain, be able to caress your face,… Continue reading
Show me the way to love.
Show me the way to love. (Photo of my Daniela in 1978 and my first published poem somewhere. Written in 1979.) A Poem by Coyote PoetryA poem written in 1979. Being young and hopeful… Continue reading
Pretty Peggy. The last dance.
Pretty Peggy. Once I chased you and all I wanted was a kiss, a dance. I told you often, you were the most beautiful girl in my world. We tried to find love… Continue reading
The daylight fading.
The daylight fading. Once the kindest woman in Texas weaved me a safe place to be. Dearest Jayne used to hold me tightly and she sang songs of love to me late into… Continue reading
Recollection. For dear Kellie.
Recollections… 1- Kellie.I was intoxicated by you. My beautiful dark eyes muse, you made me beg for seconds of time, to be near you. You were a wild spirit tempting life, leaving… Continue reading
Already broken. A Tela, an Honduras story.
Already broken. Oldest and most tire man in Michigan escaped to find something lost. He remembers an Auburn hair with a silky voice, the whiskey nights and the Soldier’s liar prayer. He gave… Continue reading
Autumn leaves. And a beautiful Katy Funke song.
Autumn leaves. I remember the September Indian Summer, I remember the warm sun touching my face and I remember you. We entwined our hands and we walked by Lake St. Clair. I loved… Continue reading
I don’t remember how you looked.
“Dreams can become nightmares. Nightmares can become sweet dreams one day.” I don’t remember how you looked. I don’t remember how you looked. Your eyes were blue, maybe hazel green? Your hair golden blond or maybe… Continue reading