The Thought-fox
I imagine this midnight moment's forest
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move
Throust the window I see no star
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:
Cold delicately as the dark snow
A fox'S nose touches twig leaf
Two eyes serve a movement that now
And again now and now and now
Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
of a body that is bold to come
Across clearings an eye
A widening deepening greenness
Brilliantly conxentratedly
Comeing about its own business
Till with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head
The window is starless still the clock ticks
The page is printed
I imagine this midnight moment's forest
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move
Throust the window I see no star
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:
Cold delicately as the dark snow
A fox'S nose touches twig leaf
Two eyes serve a movement that now
And again now and now and now
Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
of a body that is bold to come
Across clearings an eye
A widening deepening greenness
Brilliantly conxentratedly
Comeing about its own business
Till with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head
The window is starless still the clock ticks
The page is printed
