Black shadows of nighttime coyotes, howling at the
moon, answering the wolves just beyond the ridges.
Disappearing down the mountainsides, saguaros are
guarding desert habitats.
Listening to all the particular sounds, coming to
the entrance of yesterday's echoes, leaving the
partly closed gates alone, not letting anyone in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem