Crow and the Silver Fox…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

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A giant shadow mars the night…

Crow weaves his darkness all around,

Beneath the Hunter’s Moon he flies

To terrorise the Dancing Ground.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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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