Canyon Road
Driving on black ice—
I braked too hard,
spun into a 360
and then two more.
Like a boom of a sailboat,
the back of the car
slammed a dog.
In the midnight darkness
I got out to find a coyote,
his abdomen torn open.
The canine held my gaze
as I cradled his head,
one palm above his brow
the other on his snout,
and hugged him to my thigh
until the chasm
of his breath closed.
An aloneness,
not loneliness
came from the animal—
yellow flecks inside his eyes …