Standoff.
The marten slinks through the grass
It smiles with the weeds
Its blonde markings shimmer
Like corn in the mud
On its blackened back.
Standoff.
The fox crouches by a heap of stones
It bows to the wind
And its frosted fur rises
With the light of the sun
In the east.
M.
May 11/15 ; excerpt from “the Marten and the Fox” Dec 9/14
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