And the story ends
as such stories do
with the blindfolds removed
a puff of suffering
a smattering of discontent--
the last song is sung
as the curtain falls
the people rise
and leave.

One duck murmurs in the dark--
she's awake now, so am I--
then three, then five, then nine,
then all the others join us,
reassuring one another
that the howling in the ravine
is just wind,
that the night
isn't hungry,
that even though we've seen them,
coyotes can't be real.