in the dream
I have four white socked feet
with delicate black-painted toes
my coat is lustrous
dappled with radiant multi-hues
of the blazing sun
I slink into the edges
of the scenery
I am chicanery
I am sly-wise
but, I am hated
despised for who I am
though I don't know or care to know why
I am what I am
and I like me...
one very singular creature
no one quite like me
how my collective molecules
reek with what's unique
let them ridicule my natural nature
I will smile
and
I will eat grapes
I will gorge on chickens
sucking bloody marrow out of their fragile bones
just before it thickens
then devour a full clutch of their raw progeny
I am SO artful at Dodgery
it gives me glee
I see into their darkness
and then I flee
saying good-bye to all of their misunderstandings
and misinformed hatred of me
see how I run
scrambling away
with a satisfied sniff
leaving no trace but toe deep footprints
not even a whiff
of my artful presence
the ghost fox
in white socks
the black masked marauder
and illustrious carmine colored thief
and happily-mad plotter
I am so well-pleased being me
I might never wake up.
date/time stamped May 1 2018/5:55pm PST
legal copyright for this poem
and also for this writer
Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World