The Trail of Foxes
Today, I tried to take the trail of foxes,
slyly following marks engraved
on powerful terrain, made over years
under the half-closed eyes
of dubious and fitful moons.
I felt the overwhelming need
to creep in surly, inauspicious places,
for, just like those who follow gypsies,
I am greedy to uncover,
things I’ve never been allowed to see.
But armed and vicious gate-keepers of briars
stabbed and stopped my curious advance,
preventing that one sudden, fleeting glimpse
of deeper insight into worlds
that only foxes know.