A Pair of Foxes | Penana

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#1

A Pair of Foxes

ChrisWritesNow

Aug 21, 2022

234

2 分鐘

x

I beheld a pair of foxes from a distant, darkling glow,

one who put the sun to shame, the other white as snow.

How they crossed in a tangled wood, only Fate may ever know,

but where they went,

their heads unbent,

they took the woods in tow.

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiL0EgQMka5

From where I stood, of bark, of shell, of all that’s ever slow,

my roots of deep, my vines of creep, my timid voice unknown,

a passing thought to match the pace of such ethereal flow,

and yet their eyes,

to such surprise,

could strike the night a blow.

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA2yacKVdwd

Slow, so slow, I ambled out, until my branches fell,

behind a cage of wood and sap, for centuries I dwelled,

though they knew not my sproutling leaves, nor did I quickly tell,

how could they abide,

nor help but guide,

the foundling in their spell?

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoJuc57oXlj

No sooner did my newfound hands brush these spirits fleet,

Fate destroyed the forest floor and swept all off their feet.

Now in a mossy bed of rock her spotless pelage sleeps,

and mourning sun,

his light now dun,

above her headstone weeps.

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGcfmwZn4WP

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡva8BNSxWSL

Would I had but just one more pair of ears and arms agrown,

had I but a longer pair of legs to fly across the stone,

to hear your love, to hold you close, to walk the path you’d shown,

but now the dark,

has swallowed stark,

what of you both I’d known.

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmKARYzcDkM

Though the fox of orange-red has every hair the same,

a piece of him now rests with her, where none may now reclaim.

Where once I heralded sweet Fate, now I cast the blame,

What godly right,

allowed such night,

to take her as its claim?

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1MynLLplyE

Could such eyes in such a dark, the deepest of the veils,

see her love of endless time, and strengthen what is frail?

May these weeping woods of kin sing their effulgent tale,

to each other true,

not one, but two,

and in such gloom, prevail.

I know not of the whims of Fate, I know not of my end,

I know not of why flowers grow, nor the lives they might portend.

But if I know of any knowns, then here, my knowing lends,

without pause,

though short it was,

I thank these foxes called me Friend.

238Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy6zJKnJokx

To the end I’ll carry you, until we may speak once more of what we’ve seen.

ns13.58.172.97da2

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