Crow and the Silver Fox…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo


A giant shadow mars the night…

Crow weaves his darkness all around,

Beneath the Hunter’s Moon he flies

To terrorise the Dancing Ground.


Dark wings weave spells of dark and cold,

Yet far away from children’s cries

The gloom is pierced by shafts of light…

Spear-bright, the Silver Fox replies.


For none may blight the Dancing Ground,

The night is theirs, to dance and call

With flame and drumbeat, woven bright,

The birth of Winter from the Fall.


Crow spreads his wings against the flame

He will not flee the coming fight

But stands to wait for Silver Fox

Who wields the golden fire light.


And closer, now, the torches come,

The trees aflame with Summer’s death.

Their spirits join the shifting dance

As watchers wait with bated breath.


Crow challenges the Foxes’ drum,

With wings of night, he holds the scene

Illuminated by the flame

That paints the shadows…

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