Swiftly I do flee
From the frothing mouth
Of the Coyote
Tongue hanging about.

Close on my bush tail
Hoarse & violent breath
And if I do fail
Quick & silent death.

My heart it does beat
Like a pecker’s beak
My feet do retreat
Like a rushing creek.

I make a turn left
I quickly turn right
My body is deft
I melt out of sight.