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Poem: “The Hunt of the Red Fox”

2016 January 6
tags:
by Mike Vial

“The Hunt of the Red Fox”

We follow your long trail
from a distance; prints
across a snowy landscape,
that weak shield blanketing
the black hills of the Dakotas.
Sharing these binoculars,
we watch you creep, stop,
wait; tilt your head; wait.
In warm burrows made
under three feet of snow,
field mice are stirring…
Ears hone in—you leap!
Then, descending, like a
red submarine, a white
teethed torpedo, tail’s
bloody colours wave.
Hopeless are the odds
of catching a critter,
but a fox doesn’t know
the meaning of defeat;
simply the taste of one
small meal at a time. Not
now. Empty-mouthed,
you reappear, shake off
the snow, and plot a new
hunt before we have found
words to express our awe.
If we shared that instinct,
that fearless persistence,
that dedication…could
our chase be satiated?

Written Dec 5-17, 2013

Notes:
Line 16: Shakespeare, Henry 3 allusion
Inspired from “The Fox” video

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