Lone coyote composes verses on late-night air. Those howls: guttural thunderbolts sprung from the tongue; a fuse flaming night with songs far brighter than stars. Those howls: wailing guitars harmonizing with sirens in the key of urgency. The song of life & death. Bone to dust. Breath to breeze. Blood, heart, desire, hunger—pulsing. No flutter of forgive me. No murmur of pity me. Howls electrify, testify. New revelations written into night’s bible. Howls crumble sleep’s walls. Razor-fanged echoes cutting through satellite static, slingshotting off canyon walls. Moon-loving. Soul-mending. Howls prowl the air, roam in all directions. Follow the sound till it leads you to your inner wild.