Issue #11

Urban fox

sky's eyelid is shut
I scavenge pickings of light
pinpricks and thin shine
torn in the world's tarp

swift lope over glitter cold clods
wriggle through hedge roots to hard black
white startle
metallic animal roars past
trails miasma of burn

brisk trot along grass path
ignore swoop of flat-faced owl
out back all quiet
nose through heady stink
mould and rot
bread and fruit
manna of fried chicken
parcelled in plastic
carry home to den

Jenny Donnison