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Lexington Poetry Month
The Fox
07Jun2017
article by
T.M. Thomson
Poem
4

Tail of root    back of moss
ears of fern    legs of trunk
eyes like edges of moon—
narrowed and unreadable
and sheer in their blackness
all above his body
this chest of tor
jagged with rock
thick with mud
deep with shadow.
In the valley of his stomach
hunger crows and marches
in the dead night
toward the small and the quick
with eyes as opaque
as his own. 


4 responses to “The Fox”

  1. Gaby Bedetti says:

    The beginning sounds like the witches in MacBeth.

  2. Linda Caldwell says:

    Striking images – terrible beauty

  3. Mary Owens says:

    My favorite part was “in the valley of his stomach hunger crows”

  4. Karen George says:

    Such lush imagery. My favorites:

    “eyes like edges of moon” and “In the valley of his stomach / hunger crows and marches.”

    As you know, anything with “crow” calls to me.

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