I was coming home late, after visiting with an old friend; a fox pup ran out in front of my beige, 2000, Chevy Malibu; I slowed down, it didn’t know to get out of the way; I watched the fluffy tale bounce in the headlights as it tried to out run the car, its head twisting around to do the occasional shoulder check; all the while Tom Waits sang Diamonds on the Windshield on the car stereo—I had just picked the CD up at the Hospital Auxiliary: second-hand store (3 for a dollar—July special), hours before.
The fox made a quick right-hand turn and disappeared down a driveway—dissolving into the country dark.
There has to be meaning in that, I thought, I’m just too tired to figure out what it is.
So I'm putting it in a cyber bottle and sending it out to you—I just keep thinking about you.
Copyright © Colin Frizzell 2009. All rights reserved.