Hoped to Fly

Lament

The fox,
red as autumn,
the one that burrows

beneath
the grim stump
behind

the tool shed
where the ivy
grows thick,

dark green,
as green as black –
yes, that fox,

the fox that snatches
egg shells
from the garbage cans

lining the street,
silent sentinels,
dented and stained.

This morning,
it was found.
Its body lay

stretched
under the rail fence,
near the willow

that leans over
the swing set
where the children

once played,
its legs extended,
reaching forward and back

as if in that last
moment
it hoped to fly.

Advertisements

One thought on “Hoped to Fly

Say something!! Please?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s