Poems

THE FOX

Lightfoot on loneliness,
A winter fox

Not hunted
But as the true light in fur is,
Each hair a spirit
Of the whole radiance.

Light and the woods
And revelation
Come all together - as though prophesied.

Later, in weariness,
I dreamed a fox,
Running on sparkle. Delicate tread
Indented trackings of mastodon,
Dinosaur - back and back
To infinity's edge. And there the fox sprang off
Into the dark. I saw his diamond brush
...