FOX
Thomas Saunders
Everywhere I go I see you following,
wandering
in and out
of lives like you do through trees, a red streak of light
in a dull grey sky.
Buildings haloed
by the flashing neon of company logos
scratch the once-blue illusion of a ceiling:
your splash
of colour does not belong in
this world of steel and stone,
your sunset fur sticking
out like a Christmas-mad child.
Blood-blistered
ghost, lone time-trotter, prejudice-watcher.
In my language fox means
trickster,
backstabber,
but I know you’re really an
outsider,
your reputation marred to fit
other versions of reality.
Your void-black nose feels bumpy,
your tail swishing,
your breath misting in the cold winter's air,
unveiling the clouds’ hidden cave paintings.
You dart through a millennium
of piled-up unspeakables,
its stench seeping into earth’s skin
and belching into thick plumes
that hang above.
You walk the forgotten
paths of the city,
lonely like a melting puddle.
Poet Bio
Thomas Saunders is a young poet from The United Kingdom. His work is forthcoming in the Eunoia Review, The Gentian Journal, and Lunar Sea Literary and he has been longlisted for both the Christopher Tower Poetry Competition and the Kingfisher Poetry Prize.
Hope you enjoyed this poem! Stay tuned for Thomas’ next poem, Goth Girl, coming out on Friday the 13th of March.
With mischief,
Poetry Editor, Mindfork
Go on, taste some more delicious poetry:
