Fox Wednesday, January 8, 2014Tuesday, January 7, 2014Ken Seen from the rock ledge in autumn, I was downwind and you looked up, red surprised and gone without a trace. Now, tracks in the snow, four toes, claws, hunting meadow voles invisibly ahead of me. Share this poem:TwitterFacebookTumblrRedditEmailLinkedInWhatsAppPinterestLike this:Like Loading... Related