I Run with the Fox

by Mona Gould

My mother often stopped me
From having fun
With the echo of her proper
"It isn't done!"

But I'd feel my father's hand
As he'd rough my hair
Saying "black… and rebellious.
We're a bold, bad pair!"'

And now I'm woman grown
With a son - ah me!
Who am I to tell him
What the "score" should be!

Communion

The rain falls down silverly
On the dark night.
Oh, but the air is soft to touch
And your face white.

This is for remembering,
For putting away in the mind's pocket
Like a shell - or a treasured stone, found
at the beach—
This touch - this kiss - this heart turning
toward heart —
This is for remembering
When you are beyond reach.

Words, at best, are like thistledown.
Let us be quiet, then.
Give me your hand!
You are my friend, and my love till the
world ends —
You understand!

Loud Silence

This is loud silence,
This bewildering space
Untenanted by you.
It has the ugly face
Of loneliness!

Hush… foolish heart …
You have been here before —
This is your blood
That rusts upon the door!