REMINISCENCE OF CHILDHOOD - CHASING A FOX
The whole horizon of the meadow
Was ablaze with gold
As the sun shone low upon a hill.
Where the tussocks were flames of light
We felt part of the glow as if in a dream.
From the heart of the tawny fire
Came memories of a fox in childhood scenes.
In the wild of head high grass
We passed the time that seemed to last,
Wandering among bushes of rose coloured dragons
Over which hovered the sky, infested with flies.
We grew bored, so imagining the flowers to be our foes
We cut down the perfumed creation
With sticks we called swords.
From the rabbit warrens of the wanton land
Appeared a fox, fast and free.
Sensing its danger it slunk to hide within the trees.
Now the jest of our make believe became real,
In such speed of sport
The seeds of thought were sown.
We had something to kill !
We entered between the trees,
Charging between walls that were overflowing with ivy
Ready to flood the path if we stayed too long;
What humps had it already drowned ?
As if disturbing the stillness among occupied toadstools
And meths-drinkers bottles submerged in the earth
The trees began to stir as angry drunkards swayed,
Rousing their wrath as the rowdy crows scattered.
The trees spilled their widening shadows
Upon the scarlet cloak of the sun.
We turned on torch lights upon the darkening night
To find the fox; only to see the trees,
They were like antlers protruding from half buried
skulls,
Hollow eyes haggardly moving their shadows
In our torch beams, there was no fox to be seen.
So we left our game
And came out of the wood
Climbing the hill to go home.
The clouds of a deep red sky
Spread the colour of mauve through the dusk,
Blending with the hues of the moorland fields,
Casting a blue upon the distant hills.
We turned to look down upon the trees,
There was no gold light, only the darkening of our day.
© Christopher English
|
