Fox Fur
- Fox Fur
Stumbling among mittens, fallen coats,in the stale smell of wet wool,I groped for the fur my mother wore.Fixed in royal sweep her hair
rose above black eyes set in flat jaw.I never imagined the real of it:never wondered about bullets or trapsor how wounds are disguised,
what becomes of blood.I never pictured this foxrunning across a farm hill,guarding a family,
slinking low on its bellyinto a barnyard, leavingchicken feathers and bloodnear the kitchen door.
I only wanted its comfort,the way its body circled my arm,its teeth closed gently on my wrist,the way its color went from shine to black. [End Page 55]
Susan Howard Case began writing poetry in the late 1980s, during her career as a high school English teacher. Her need to write grew rapidly, as did her interest in contemporary poetry. She wrote and studied what she could on her own, with the help of conferences and workshops, throughout the 1990s. Ultimately she enrolled in the Bennington MFA program and graduated in June 2007. She devotes her time now to her own reading and writing, as well as participating in and running workshops. She has never published a book, though her chapbook Blown Roses is forthcoming from Puddinghouse Press, and her poems have appeared in several journals, including The Comstock Review, The Ledge, Peregrine, Primavera, and The Sow's Ear.
