Like a Young Fox Bounding

The Wayne Hills High School Symphonic Ochestra played a few songs this afternoon. A teacher at Wayne Hills, I was able to listen. These words grew from my happy listening


The Symphony

The clarinet’s song,
like a young fox
bounding

through the snow,
snapping at a mouse
zigging under

the deep soft,
playfully bobbed above
the saxophone’s hollow,

the snare’s
distant thunk.
Only the flute

reached higher
than the fox’s game,
the light glistening

on the ice
that interred the tips
of a birch’s brittle branches.

 

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6 thoughts on “Like a Young Fox Bounding

      1. Want in on the comments? It is a small group ( five to eight, depending on how many of us are in town at once) of very good (in my estimation) poets. We each bring one of our own poems and one from someone else–usually a noted poet. I’ve had fun including poetry I’ve found on blogs as I’m the only blogger in the group.

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