Old Fox

people who have a way with words

Old fox

I’ve seen your silver tongue

It  must weigh several full moons

Yet you open your mouth

And speak words to the desert

And the peonies spring up

And wild thorny roses unfurl

A deep blue carpet rolls out and fat pink

Fish dart in celebration from its surface

the earth grins in rows of fragrant petals

Of blue and red and yellow

How do you make the ground yield to you?

How much of your soul did you carve off

And is half a soul the market price

For a tongue as dazzling as yours?