by Sally Nacker

A few feet from the porch
of my house in the woods:
a fox— red, startling—

against noon snow. So still
it stood facing east, and still
I stood, facing north,

each suspended in time
with bright snow falling
when a second fox

lunged from the east woods
west, and off they
sprang up the road.


Photo by Birger Strahl on Unsplash