My scent ended at the river.
Pixie dust and fairy sparkles
(Pollen and fireflies)
made sure no one would find me here,
a waterfall of
over my body,
tail coming through like a long, slender balloon
that slinked and slid through the water,
gravity pulling my
hands to the ground,
Ears pining past the bubbling brook,
paws snapping sticks.
(the scent of rabbit three miles to the east,)
Fear, a quick snap,
thoughts of my job,
my future, my loss, my worries, my expectations,
Mind went quiet
I closed my eyes
(Yes, this is what birth must be like)
as I stepped from river
and shook the water from my fur.
When a fox walks it drums on moss
tribal but tentative
the pawfalls bouncing quiet.
I kept the step of my kind.
The moon was out
and the trail was thin
and as I walked I could almost
that it was just me and the pebbles
hanging above a void
happy for the first time in ages.
No. Nobody could find me here.