This poem is taken from PN Review 45, Volume 12 Number 1, September - October 1985.
PoemsTHE FOX
Lightfoot on loneliness,
A winter fox
Not hunted
But as the true light in fur is,
Each hair a spirit
Of the whole radiance.
Light and the woods
And revelation
Come all together - as though prophesied.
Later, in weariness,
I dreamed a fox,
Running on sparkle. Delicate tread
Indented trackings of mastodon,
Dinosaur - back and back
To infinity's edge. And there the fox sprang off
Into the dark. I saw his diamond brush
...
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