Poetry from a Time Forgotten for Saturday, March 15, 2008

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Child of the Wild

I gaze down the valley of first light, a landscape for a fox in early morning trot through fields of dawn. Open acres in unexpected mist, through patches of trees that frame his form. He has the aire of a ghost, soft, but gallant. A quiet step, shakes the snow off his tail. I am alone to watch this,... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ariala at 6:01 AM | add or view comments (6) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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