Green Hills Literary Lantern






I was hurrying past a window when I saw the fox

in the neighbor’s yard, in the early light.

First it seemed a cat, but then I saw

the red heft of it and the strong ears and long snout

and lush tail, that confident muscular trot,

that raw rejoicing in the body,

as the creature made its way then

on past the neighbor’s yard and our house

and the house next door, past our parked cars

and our lawn chairs and our lampposts and our swing sets.


And this vivid sufficient being, full of vigor and grace,

all day I saw it in my  mind

and when I told the story that night my voice was full

and hushed, as though I still

remembered in my throat how it felt to pray.




Mary Warner spent her career in journalism and is returning to poetry in her retirement. Her work has been published by Mud Season Review. She lives in Harrisburg, P