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.
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