In the pale moon’s glow, the prairie wind does sigh,
A tale of wildness, ‘neath the Western sky.
Where once the cattle roamed, and mustangs ran free,
Now echoes of a world lost to history.
The coyotes, cunning, with eyes gleaming bright,
Crept from the shadows, in the dead of night.
They whispered in the wind, their secret grand,
A plan to reclaim this untamed land.
With paws as silent as the desert breeze,
They forged a path through ancient cacti seas.
Their howls, a symphony, to stars above,
Declared their reign, a testament to love.
No fence could hold them, no rancher’s call,
For freedom’s fire burned deep within them all.
They danced through canyons, o’er mesas high,
Their spirits unbridled, touching the sky.
The rivers, they sang with tales of old,
Of pioneers brave, and legends bold.
Yet the coyotes listened, their hearts set free,
To the ancient ballads of destiny.
Through ghost towns, they trod, a ghostly crew,
Their wild eyes aflame with a fiery hue.
They reclaimed the plains, the mountains, the streams,
Awakening echoes of forgotten dreams.
In the heart of the West, they took their stand,
With a world to inherit, a destiny grand.
For the coyotes knew, as the stars burned bright,
That freedom was theirs, in the moon’s soft light.
So, let their tale echo through the night,
Of coyotes bold, and their daring flight.
For in the heart of the West, wild and wide,
They reclaimed the world, with a fearless stride.
The Old Blog in the Desert 