Grasshopper, This poem makes me feel uneasy: I think
part of my unease derives from the sharpness of the
word 'Vix' which is prominent and repeated (and
enhanced by other sharp words like 'victim'). I have
another uneasiness which arises from my feeling that I
am being associated with/ included in the'destroying
race'. Despite my veganism and my recycling efforts I
feel sure that some things are destroyed within the
process of keeping me alive so I do not think I can
get out of it by saying I have never hunted and would
never do so and would like us to catch up with the
eighteenth century in which (selected) cruel sports
were abolished.
I admire this powerfulness and at the same time am
aware of the skill with which you have delineated
features of the fox and its habits. Perhaps I am a
little unsure of where you want me to place my main
focus. The last stanza is, for my taste, a little too
abstract or folkloric increasing my feeling that I do
not really know what is your main thrust- but then I
am comparing this with those of your poems with which
I have more speedily empathised. cheers, cara--
"grasshopper M.A. Griffiths"
<[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Vix
>
> Vix the victim
> Vix the persecuted
> Vix the ancient presence
> torn, tormented, taunted
> labelled vile and verminous
> by a destroying race
> hunted, disinterred,
> killed by close kin, cubs
> clubbed for sport
> I hail
>
> Vix the vigilant
> Vix the predator
> Vix the shadow made flesh
> in town in country on the city streets
> who watches me approaching
> snuffs with berrybright nose
> with the sage, sharp mask
> scans and reads me
> as no threat
> I hail
>
> Vix the prowler
> Vix the valiant
> Vix the cunning heart
> who comes from earth
> deep in treeroots and ferns
> glides russet across the ground
> on dainty feet, half dog, half deer
> with the old wisdom
> in his gaze
> I hail
>
> Vix enduring
> Vix victorious
> Vix the arrow of the land
> ebony tipped and nailed
> autumn apple forest spirit
> call to your brethren
> from shire to shire
> red beast of Albion, wait
> until the king returns
> to greet you
> in your rich dark realm
>
> grasshopper
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