Sandra Fees
Threshold
Stumbling upon the smile
of fox eyes at the jagged
edges of dark
the agile limbs poised
at the threshold of seasons
breath held
our bodies mutually reticent
our muzzles full of light and dark
mouthing life and death.
The winter fur is rust
red as my sister’s wavy hair
and I think of her winding
her way in the wild habitat
of each small injury:
loss of sight, loss of love—
each illuminating a mystery
curious as my hand
reaching across the clearing
as if to stroke
the lengthening silk of her.
of fox eyes at the jagged
edges of dark
the agile limbs poised
at the threshold of seasons
breath held
our bodies mutually reticent
our muzzles full of light and dark
mouthing life and death.
The winter fur is rust
red as my sister’s wavy hair
and I think of her winding
her way in the wild habitat
of each small injury:
loss of sight, loss of love—
each illuminating a mystery
curious as my hand
reaching across the clearing
as if to stroke
the lengthening silk of her.