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
Sally Nacker was awarded the Edwin Way Teale writer’s residency in 2020 where she enjoyed a week of solitude on 168 acres of nature. Since then she and her husband have moved to their own small house in the woods. Publishing credits include The Orchard’s Poetry Journal, Blue Unicorn, One Art, Mezzo Cammin, Quill and Parchment, and The Sunlight Press. She has her MFA in poetry from Fairfield University. Kindness in Winter is her new collection. Please visit her website at www.sallynacker.com.
0 Comments