So quietly did fox cross yesterday
our path in wet woods, the white dog never
lifted her nose and I thought it was brown
silent apparition from a lost dream

But it so beguiled me, this noiseless fox,
it appeared over and over again,
just one fox become many mind foxes,
soft shades of brown, aristocratic tails.

Unforeseen encounter, intense pleasure,
antidote to the surprise of terror,
fox up on his paws, off on an errand
through fragrant pines in the mid-winter rain.

We’re just as likely to be lost as found
When dream of fox turns up on waking ground

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