The Walk of the Coyote

One track in front of the other, a firm stature.
Any evidence couldn’t be collected on the frigid ground.
It’s bushy tail in full motion facing downward;
A moonlit dance of its own.
The wind held her breath for that brief moment, as did I.
No sound, this moment in time belonged to the creature of confidence.
A hidden expression fading farther in the night,
headed towards the wood.
Just enough time for inhabitants to scurry away.