Poetry

Recovering From Enactment

The coyotes yip and holler
In the back
Conserved acreage
While 500 hundred feet
Away
Traffic incessantly speeds
Adding to the din.
Carrots are left out
By the Fios interchange box,
Hoping the small child will see the deer.

How is it we so fitfully 
Coexist just
A straight flight from the towers?

The smell of death made
Its way here
We see the green and red lights of the great
Bridge,
the speedway over the
Hudson.
Up-stream not too
Far 
Red-tailed hawks
Eagles and grotesque
Turkey vultures 
Roost and roam
Swooping down
Establishing territory,
Sending a signal
To the invading human
Recently standing on the precipice
Exhilarated