A fox framed by a barn door

            stares at me.

He does not run away.

He seems to know something

Like two people in love.

            I am I and you are you.

                                    No one really knows the other.

A brown creek tumbles over flat stones

            like the ones daddy skipped on the bay.

                                    Shadows feel like cobwebs.

Later, I stare at sunset from an airplane window

            My spirit diminishes as we lift.

Donna Isaac