Wednesday, 21 December 2016

The Black Fox

by Yuri

27 July 2008. While sifting through the piles and piles of schoolwork that kids brought home, I found this poem. By some reason, I took care to type it up. And a good thing too, since we didn’t keep most of those papers. Not a single character was changed.

21 December 2016. On the longest night of the year, found this poem again.

The Black Fox

Slipping over the rocks,
Creeping over the grass,
Silent and sleek as a cat,
The black fox watches the grass.
She jumps and snaps,
And gets up with a mouse in her jaws.
Silent as the dead mouse,
She skips back to the den.

Back at the den, safe and sound,
She feeds her cub and watches him play around.

On soft, padded paws she slips out again that day,
Walking silently along, ears pricked, all senses alert to find the way.

While she walks further from home, her baby waits,
waiting all alone.

Waiting all alone.

No comments:

Post a Comment