Most Sincerely,

Lear of the fox.

Smallest of fingers,

woven through a chain link fence.

Afterschool slant of shadow.

Absent to fear,

Innocence manifests in her child light.

Innocence had never not known light.

But there is a darkened glint in the eye of the fox.

A sneer dipped in fear.

Rust tinges the purest fingers.

Russet shadow,

of the shedding fence.

That fence,

a boundary between light

and shadow.

On the other side a crafty fox ,

whose idle fingers

are laced with fear.

The unfamiliar taste of fear,

Melds with the metallic scent of fence.

As the little fingers

tangle against light

and the Fox

who begets shadow.

Now the taint of shadow

is the seed of fear.

Bred by the whole of a fox,

near a fence,

that distorts the angle of Light

upon once pure fingers.

A snarl of fingers

weave secrets in shadow.

Now Innocence must leave on her night light.

Riddled with fear

she runs the fence

desperate to escape that seedy fox.

But that sly and eager Fox has already nipped Innocence’ fingers,

as the fence lazily played with evening’s uneven shadow—

and so a child emerges into fear, yet will always remember and seek the light.