Trickster

I can't pretend to understand
what strange passion compels
your lonely midnight vigils
near the ripe corpse
of a slaughtered hog.

Does hunger
(or curiosity)
lure coyote
to his death?

I can't pretend to understand
the trickster's glory;
but, on my ears I wear your gift--
ivory canines set in silver.
Perhaps their whispers will explain.