Fox in the Landscape

Tulip, you Bled on my green rug. A jungle-red petal Where my little kits Rollick, fallen like a warning— Yesterday I sat outside In the returned sun Trying to make more Friends; after all these years To think of yourself Snapped, the sweet sap Tremoring between States of ice and melt. An old love wrote to me From his wife’s country place To say he had been hunting there And could appreciate the hounds; In a white coat he is closely Setting people’s bones, opening Their backs with the hands I knew The cancellated paths Of saying no or yes: I could have fallen To a fearing of the little foxes lately Come into the yard (There is so little I know about what to do) But I let them be.