As we disappeared
from the roads and retail plazas,
as the parks were shuttered
and the playgrounds were locked away,
coyotes came out
to run the roads looking for us.
When they did not see us
in our usual numbers, did not find
our fast food remnants, did not see
our deadly cars or hear us chatter and rage
at each other, they did not wait
but came forward, more and more,
to go in daylight where they’d rarely gone
before dark till now. It became clear
to them and to all others
that at least temporarily,
something had shifted.
The air, the ambient sound,
the ground itself
all seemed less troubled.
Lawns and meadows
grew longer, wilder, wilder,
opened up old blooms;
after it was over, everyone
noticed the honey
was richer that season
even as the coyotes melted
back into the dark.
a different sweetness;
enough for now.