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Fox in the Landscape

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Tulip, you   
Bled on my green rug.   

A jungle-red petal   
Where my little kits   

Rollick, fallen like a warning—   

Yesterday I sat outside   
In the returned sun   

Trying to make more   
Friends; after all these years   

To think of yourself   
Snapped, the sweet sap   

Tremoring between   
States of ice and melt.   

An old love wrote to me   
From his wife’s country place   

To say he had been hunting there   
And could appreciate the hounds;   

In a white coat he is closely   
Setting people’s bones, opening   

Their backs with the hands   
I knew   

The cancellated paths   
Of saying no or yes: I could have fallen

To a fearing of the little foxes lately   
Come into the yard   

(There is so little I know about what to do)   
But I let them be.

Source: Poetry (March 2009)

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This poem originally appeared in the March 2009 issue of Poetry magazine

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Fox in the Landscape

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