Treasure Island

karen sinclair

(brighton)

Dead Fox...


Your ocre tones capture my vision
Beneath the hedgerow
Beside the business grey road
Which snarls past your
Gnarled grimace
Teeth exhibit
Your last pain-filled scream

Dried scarlet bloodied browned and leathered
Loiters on your titanium cheeks
Which once bounded joyous
With family
Through cornfields

And the maggots
Those maggots
Filthy maggots
Writhing remorselessly
The only life left
Fighting position
Falling pointless

One day they shall fly
All thanks to you

Submitted: Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 24, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

As a young mum I was walking in the countryside pushing my daughter in her pushchair. I saw this and its always haunted me. His face

Comments about this poem (Dead Fox... by karen sinclair )

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  • Krishnakumar Chandrasekar Nair (10/26/2013 6:18:00 AM)

    Even death is teeming with life as maggots. And so will it be with us too when we some day go down under as food for worms. Good poem and welcome to my page (Report) Reply

  • Martin Mclean (10/23/2013 3:11:00 AM)

    A powerful and superbly concise consideration of the fox's death in the context of its life and then the fate of its body. The description of its facial expression at this violent death in the first stanza is superb. The reflective final couplet is a perfect ending to the poem. (Report) Reply

  • Danny Draper (10/15/2013 11:00:00 PM)

    Evocative indeed, a beautiful lyrical and fantastically descriptive write with a superb deft finish in the last short stanza. You should submit this for publication at your writers and poets group. (Report) Reply

  • Douglas Scotney (10/15/2013 6:24:00 PM)

    Evocative. I heard a fox cry in a movie...it had been distracted from eating dead bodies. Then, next day, read that the cry can be mistaken for a human crying in distress. And I thought of all those dead foxes I saw, run over on the road just out of Nyngan, NSW, Australia, on the road to Broken Hill. (Report) Reply

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