Courtship and Grief

Restless, mourning for my dying friend,
I hear a vixen in the night. Her rasping
screams scratch the air until she’s answered
by the male. Across white fields, red foxes
trot and cry while I drift into sleep. They
pass beneath my window and hurl love notes
through the shutters, jerking me awake.
As they saunter off, their brittle tune
begins to fade. I cup my ears to hold their
singing close, as if this were a charm
to keep my friend alive a little longer.
After these two vulpine lovers vanish
I am winded. Wrestling with death’s art
wraps sinews around my trembling heart.

Susan Middleton, who writes poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, is a co-founder of Slate Roof Press (Northfield, MA), which in 2007 published her chapbook, Seed Case of the Heart. Her work has appeared in The Raven’s Perch, Silkworm, and Wordpeace, among others; in 2018 she won the Beals Poetry Prize.