The huehuecoyotl glares

Neck stretched out into the purple sky 

Howling for the spirit

In the valley with his pup

Surrounded by agave towering

Waiting for the bloom.

His life emerges

In clay covered in wax

Each bead, red, azure and black 

She places on his body 

With a bone needle 

In her calloused, knotted fingers.

He guides the patterns:

Jaguars, scorpions, spiders and lizards

To be blessed by their spirits

Waiting to be dressed,

This chaquira coyote

And be transformed into her world.

Like Pezelao, she chants her prayer, 

Whose spirit will he carry this time?

Which ancestor will emerge?

She wonders,

Will they bring balance

Into this world 

She now barely recognizes.