Doxa 6

Primordial

To drift beneath the blue
countenance of a chalk moon
with its myriad stars
like so many myriad stars
and no metaphor; to slip off
to sleep with the cool dusk
breeze crooning in his ear
and the apple orchard below
the parapet; to come to
a solitary coyote howling
through the predawn gray
its primordial prayer: all this
his prerogative from the start
and the crown upon his head.