Coyote

The coyote came out this morning,
into the cold, morning, half light,
new sugar snow between his paws.

I, hurtling down the roadway,
taking the curve of Rabbit's Foot Canyon,
late for work.

Our paths met and he stared at me,
I wondered what he thought as I approached
my purpose clear to me, his unknown.

He turned and retraced his steps,
I hurtled forward, late.

Who's path was right?
who followed the natural meter of his life?
tick, tick tick... or the heart's rhythm?

God make me the coyote,
happy in my skin, with the pleasures of food, warmth, and rut
steering my path.

On this winter's night.