Coyotes’ Call

While the ripped relationship bled
I retreated into the Michigan winter.
Sky and snow lit the night, echoed
howls of coyotes calling.
Heard without need of lifting ear
to the wind, froze my feet in the path.
Had they taken a deer
or a neighbor’s hound pup?
The killers were close
too close,
just beyond trees
near the ravine.
Wails of fright, chased
down my spine, suggested torn flesh.
I cowered back to my den of stone
and that was how I ended my night.