In the 1990s, the Coyote Women were frequent performers on the San Juan Ridge. I was one of the few “townies” the women invited, and I was honored to be included. I’d like to gather some names and memories from others who remember this time in our artistic history. If you can help, please leave your details and memories in the comments below or write me at lightcapfarm@gmail.com.
She knows where she lives and how to get there
from any of the six directions.
Coyote Woman knows her needs,
creates paths to meet them on her own behalf.
She offers no apology for what she feels
and states only what she means.
Coyote Woman hones a passion,
bathes it with her tongue on the earth floor of her den.
She howls in the throes of love,
snarls at unkindness,
flips a playful paw at folly.
Coyote Woman can’t stop growing.
Each year her fur is thicker,
heart larger as she greets the moon.
Carolyn Crane
1995
I love your poem! I wish I had been able to witness you amazing women back in the day. Is a revival on the front?
Thanks! I’m not aware of revival on the front, but it is possible….
Coyote women
so long silent
watching the men leave nightly
doors crashing shut
now is our time
come leave your den
the pups sleep sound
follow through forest dark
meadow beckoning
howl
now is the time
grow paws
fur
howl at the moon
voices rising
howl the breakfast uncooked
howl the dirty windows
lovers here and gone
children crying
howl the bleeding earth
broken bodies
quarrels
countries friends
fighting
howl the moon rising
unleash the passion
bound
so long silent
the time is now
howl for life
Oh, thank you Raven! Whew!