Late winter, Coyote staring at a creek
This side of madness
is the last place of the downy flake.
In the up of the waterfall,
only the mad look would know to
among the worn stones round and smooth,
where water like rambunctious children flows,
where leaves like rudderless boats
for the seasons dried
to their next life are carried,
where up the flake of the snow down falls.
From: The Coyote Writings
by Marc A. Crowley writing as Coyote
Soon to be published, p. 5
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