My Brother - A Poem

Picking your way over the
railroad ties I spied you,
oil splotched tail wavering
from the gale of the passing

train. From the passenger
window using the wavelengths
of my brain I sent you
this quiet refrain—

“Journeying fox, you are my brother.”

Once the face of this valley
was bearded with bearded with
our kinds' sanctuary- leaved
steeples, riverbed isles, earthen

pews- razed, shaved away for
houses most families can't
afford to move into. Concrete
is no place to crash for

me, nor you. Up north we'll
meet again me in a cabin
with my lover, you with a
mate in a den, embraced by
the emerald wilderness mother.

Journeying fox, you are my brother.