Fire Fox Pt.5 Poem by James Meaney

I was following your pack
You swallowed in your coat
With a scarve of red
Tied around your throat
And foxes are most beautiful
When their white as the snow.
In the winter time.
But me wandering you
Has gone by
Where did it go
It's been plucked from my fidelity
To follow your fair
To follow you softly
In the cold mountain air
And through the forest
I walked by a grave
Not looking at the stone
But following the tall grasses wave
I wish not to follow your shadow
For I do not see
My heart being content
With not being lonely.