Fox

The roar of the Earth-mud,
tumbling in growl towards the sunset,
over wet grass, asqueak under tread.

Cacophony of distant howl.
The jaws of his terror'd heart
snap up life's gold thread.
A red sun rolls in heaven's cold cave.
An old sky weeps a wintery dust to brush
a comet of red fur, streaking across the green.

Where is home?
Where is safety?
Where are the woods?

The warmth of mother's skin,
the breath of her heart; in out,
like passing clouds stroking a sad bell.

A crack of black trees
to taste the soft air's musk.
The dogs tumble, like gravel in a concrete mixer,
over the country towards dusk.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.