One of my old short stories. Nature’s grieve
Nature’s grieves (Chapter one) (Wrote for baby girl in 1996) She sat alone on top of Himalayas and her flowing long brown hair covered her face. Her tears have rained on Earth… Continue reading
Nature’s grieves (Chapter one) (Wrote for baby girl in 1996) She sat alone on top of Himalayas and her flowing long brown hair covered her face. Her tears have rained on Earth… Continue reading
Angels, muses and sirens. A Story by Coyote Poetry There are good and bad death. I recommend you pick the proper one. Angels, muses and sirens. “Death did not beat me. I… Continue reading
Monterey-part two A Chapter by Coyote Poetry A new story being born Monterey – Love glances and stolen kisses The old man found his final place to rest. He returned to Monterey.… Continue reading
Monterey A Chapter by Coyote Poetry Part one. The letters. Monterey The letters Dear Beth I roamed your Facebook site. You are still so beautiful. I told you I was okay. I… Continue reading
Barefoot dreams A Story by Coyote Poetry Good places and friends make distance places good dreams in old age. Barefoot dreams I met the Sergeant Major nightly at the Bowling alley,… Continue reading
The dark light and the bright lights A Chapter by Coyote Poetry Chapter one of a new story. The dark light and the bright lights. The dark light and the bright… Continue reading
Love have taught me madness Break me Please break me. Make me bleed. Show me I’m alive. Make me die and bring me back to life. Dead men revived know life can be… Continue reading
Love demand payment. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Dance, sing and laugh. But remember. Treat love like the rice paper of life. Can be easily damaged and cannot be repaired. Love demand payment.… Continue reading
The Raven and the Coyote A Story by Coyote Poetry A story. Some of my Ojibwa heritage coming out. The Raven and the Coyote The Raven watched the moon. Her interest awoken… Continue reading
Just words A Poem by Coyote Poetry Write, write and write some more. Our words outlast our memory. There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and… Continue reading