Watching Foxes, Poem 007-2023-0206

This is an old post from February 2011.

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Words awoke me the other morning, repeating in my mind loudly, obtrusive. At 4:27, I snapped on my lamp and scribbled them down.

Faces sharp

Red coal eyes

Gold afire

Watching

Waiting

I tried to remember the dream that had birthed those words, but it had vanished.

I extinguished the light and dozed. More words came to me: Watching me after the snow is shoveled. Seldom barking, but always watching.

Sunlight stirred me back to the living. I took my jottings to my office and put them aside while I worked on some pencil drawings—3 hours of studying shadow and light. After breakfast I put away my art project, picked up one of my stories in progress and wrote some chapters. Then, during lunch, those words that had awoken me returned.

Faces sharp. Red coal eyes. Gold afire. Watching me after the snow is shoveled. Seldom barking, but always watching. Waiting

And then a childhood memory came.

Aha! The writing went quickly as words spilled from me.

Please enjoy my latest poem.

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I am watching,
alive the foxes watching me
after the snow is shoveled from the coop.
Seldom barking
but always watching,
watching me.

Faces sharp,
red coal eyes,
gold afire on the stubble on the hillock,
watching,
waiting,
bright hostile fur,
they’re prowling now for the waning hour shadows creeping,
slipping inside wire pens that coop our hens.

I am watching,
alert the foxes watching me
along the edge of night.

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Thanks for reading.

That’s all for now. Peace and love to all my readers.

Steve, 2/6/2023

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This post “Watching Foxes, Poem 007-2023-0206” copyright © 2023 Steven Leo Campbell at stevecampbellcreations.com – All rights reserved.

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