Field
A poem.
Three foxes are seen in the back garden of a residential property in north London.
Simon Newman/Reuters
July 2, 2014
Sure I get tired of being stepped on
but mostly I say, Go ahead, friends,
take a seat why don’t you
lie down and relax. Stare up
at the sky. Ignore
those moist patches
on the back of your pants.
Now try standing all together
with everyone you know
and everyone they know,
shoulder to shoulder,
arm in arm. Forget about going
anywhere. Instead wait
for the sun to surprise you
and the moon to remind you
of the passage of time.
Let the ants do their intricate work
while robins fish for worms
and foxes fool rabbits.
Let the wind blow right through you.
Don’t be afraid to bend and wave.