Vulpes vulpes, with your
little
black nose,
your
anxious eyes,
darting,
your
den, under leaves
once
red,
are
ochre, burnt umber, and blowing away
in
the air
of
wet earth and maple smoke exhaled.
My
palms,
holding
ash
up
to my fingertips, cool to the touch,
warm
with a flame I cannot fan,
everything
dying, like this.
But
I’ll find you,
sometime
October,
under
the chestnut tree
wagging
your tail,
Vulpes
vulpes,
for
me.
©
2016 Jennifer Wagner
It
seems I am too busy for poetry right now.
But sometimes, she finds me.
12 comments:
Wonderfully drawn ... a lovely autumn piece, Jennifer.
Incredibly written. Hope she finds you easily and you never lose her... Vulpes vulpes...
and I'm glad she did ~
I love the image of the fox... the use of its Latin name that rolls so wonderful on my tongue
An excellent autumn poetic writing. :)
Love the imagery and you capture autumn so well. :)
The joy of a season. written through your eyes
I like the image you use with the foxes.
Neat!
__ Now, our anticipation of next spring's youngsters. Smiles! _m
warmth
seeps into their den
the kits
I love it when poetry finds us instead of the other way around--love the feel to this Jennifer--just right for fall!
Most unique, vivid, and, yes, Fall-like!
Very apropos for this time of year :) <3
Where've you been? Is everything ok? - Mosk
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