Run Fox, by Betye Arrastia-Nowak

I am from
The tree that stretches and withers
In the sunlight.
I am from hands with scratches from climbing trees.
I am from
My brother’s arms strong with hope and youth.
I am from idle words, words of strength
I am from
The words I want to be
I want to be
A tree that is being chopped up
and when you call “timber”
I will grow strong with
Only a scare.

I am a child sitting by the fire
Watching the flames fly free
And disappear
To a world I can't see.
I am a child hypnotized
By the fox with fur as bright as fire.
The flames
Flames of hope
Flames that ride
on the foxes back
As it runs through
The empty, endless white snowy fields.
Run fox, run
Run free
Run for that
Sting green weeping tree
That lies ahead, in the winter breeze.
Run fox, run
and feel the fire that rides on your back
And melt the snow, with every step you take.
I am a child
That loves fire
The color of your fur
I want to be you, fox
Running free
So run
Run fox, run
Run until I get on my feet
And run through
That winter breeze.