Blue Fox
The fox slopes warily into the garden,
a sapphire dawn overlay's and
sheens his form.
He trots across
a snow powdered clearing
head low, electric whiskers
seeking trace and track.
Crystalline eyes
turn toward a window
where I watch between
aquamarine icicles.
A white speckled snout
wrinkles in sudden awareness.
A quick curious stare,
then off he vaults
over a frost jeweled fence,
a bristled tail whisking
diamond flecked snowflakes -
blue diamonds.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2025
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