Saturday, August 11, 2007

coyote poem #3

Got home from the party and wandered out onto the porch with my laptop.
Coyote was sitting in the ugly white and yellow metal chair, reading one of my Buddhist books (upside down), and picking with one claw at one of the chair's many rust patches.
So, you’re a Buddhist, now, eh? I asked him, slightly annoyed.
Maybe, he replied, eyes closed in deep meditation, it seemed.
Maybe I’m a spiritual chameleon, he added, with a wink.

Hey, coyote, I have a question about love?
Really? he said., raising one eyebrow

Lay it on me, kiddo!

I was wondering, coyote, how far can love travel?

That’s easy,
Said coyote.

Love, travels as far as you want
But only after some practice, he added.

Like, if you loved this ugly chair, you'd paint it.

Coyote, it's a CHAIR? How the hell am I supposed to love a chair? That's not what I was talking about and YOU KNOW IT!

Gotta start somewhere, he said.


Ed said...

I like it!

Suzy said...

As I said today, I envy that you are a poet. I'm just a Prose-et.