They walked all day with a thin fox
as their companion. He carried his tail
easily over the stones and they admired
his face like a delicate chisel.
Toward evening he turned to them
and said, I cannot stay with you but
since you are the last one on earth
I will tell you my secrets. And so
for one hundred evenings he spoke
and his secrets wove slow vines
among their ribs, around their lungs
and by the end they understood
willow branches and leaf rot, rabbits’
terror, the slow hammer of roots
through concrete, their own heart—
the deathly intertwining of desire
and waste. Wind rattled past
the fox was gone, they thought,
until they heard the lost violin
of his voice threading the hills
with them as they walked gently
on new grass and with relief
left hope behind.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 26, Issue 2.
Lea Marshall’s poetry is forthcoming in The Ecopoetry Anthology Volume III. She was recently named a finalist for Diode Editions’ 2023 Book Contest, and for the Graybeal-Gowen Prize for Virginia Poets, and her poetry has appeared in The Rise Up Review, A-Minor Magazine, failbetter, BOAAT Journal, Linebreak, Unsplendid, Hayden’s Ferry Review, B O D Y, Diode Poetry Journal, Thrush Poetry Journal, Broad Street Magazine, and elsewhere. She holds an MFA from Virginia Commonwealth University.
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