The Gift


fox
like a thief
among vultures
that prowl in dusks’
glare

night
after night
seeking bounty
where
bounty lay subliminal
in the shadow of moon

the two would clash, the story reads,
except for on that evening in december
wishing for things to come
was foolish thinking, that apples grow freely
patient fox awaits undercover of bush,
vulture hangs high overhead, as sentry

vulture snipes and downward he swipes, so, surely he has won!
tomorrow, the seed will evacuate
then, it is to begin again
vulture and fox still wait and watch

the seedling grows as apples do
in due time

~dld seotember 15, 2010

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2 responses to “The Gift

  1. You always write things that give me pause…I ponder your words…enjoy the process your poems bring to me.

  2. and sir… don’t you think that yours do the same for me?
    this one grew from finding a dead fox in my yard, I don’t know what or how it happened and
    then I began to think of the food chain… before I knew it… The Gift!

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