The Girl Who Likes Foxes

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for poetry. I read this one in the current issue of Uppercase mag.

The girl who likes foxes lives in a dream

She was born with a taste for wily things

In snowy woods she wandered,

And on into Spring

Hunting a skulk of smirking tails

And listening close for teasing wails

She waited and watched for fast crimson pelts,

Looking about for fierce diamond snouts

Chasing the treeline at dawn and dusk,

She turned her soft senses to vixen musk:

Where were the creatures that glide without wings?

La volpe! La volpe!

Yellow parade of eyes that strangle and sing.

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