Vixen

this waning summers twilight air, as short as it is still. 
does it whisper? 
...does it yell?
... the still that is...
either way, if still was to be given voice, this mornings still would hint of huddled nights to pair with autumns chill impending. 
damn this still! why speak to me at all if only to distract me from my moment!?
hush now, he breaths it in and raising his arms to his side he centers himself in the doorway. sweeping cane in hand, its 30 paces forward to just before that nettle patch, then a quarter turn to the left and walk until you smell the mint. ah! theres that wift of fresh! he sweeps around from side to side.. to side.. to tap! success, he's found his favorite sitting stone, and while he may have claimed it, as if that right is mans to yield, it's far from his alone. he shares this perch near everyday with a not so common grackle. oh the threads that grackle weaves, chitter chatter, gifts of laughter, let we eat some seeds,,, today his tale is of a tail, a tail of red with whitened tip,, 
"a fox" he squawks,
...he's often on about that fox, 
"that vixen! she's been stalking me, her eyes, so mischief brimmed and wide with hunger, they cut me deep, i feel them ever watching! she's in my dreams and when i close my eyes, and behind the trees, and everywhere that i cant see, there she is, that prowling vixen, i fear she plans to eat me!" 
the blind man laughs, "my dear old grackle friend, how fortunate you are to even see this vixen, never mind be loved by her, and then, to love her in return, and that she would trust and let you, clearly you are blessed".
 "LOVE?!" the grackle squawks in contest, " i do not love her, how could i love this vicious thing that only means to tear me in to pieces" 
the blind man pauses, smiles.. 
 "describe to me your fox so i may see her as you do, these hunger eyes you speak of, what colour are they? " 
the grackle looks around "mmm, i dont know." 
 "close your eyes bird, find her"..
 the grackle looks to the sitting stone below him and closes his eyes, a moment passes... 
 "they burn,,, of amber oak with hazel tones flecked golden green when struck by sun.... and, and in the rain they are as polished, unforgiving looking glass, so such that when i look in to them there's none but my true self bared flaws and all and her beside me staring back, they are eyes to drown in.. they humble, they terrify". 
 "and what of her fur? describe her fur old grackle"... , 
"its soft... and groomed, but wild, and smells of fruiting blooms, its colour is a red of sorts i guess, but deep and almost black and shines like bloodied moonlit leaves.. her bushy tail however, though ive seen it red as well, her tail she changes if and when she should so please." 
the smiling blind man nods, 
"and her voice my brother?, what does she sound like?" 
 the grackle lifts his head and opens up his eyes,,,
 "when she speaks her voice pours in like sweet warm worm and warms the blood, and brings a settling peace, and when she sings the crickets, birds and even the cicadas stop and listen and they revel in her song, and when she howls,,,, oh, when she howls, its enough to raise ones feathers, the trees and rivers shudder and moon itself does blush.. oh blind man, i fear you may be right!, i fear i may be blessed...  but how could there be any good in such a savage creature? can she even care to love? from my branch ive watched her hunt, ive heard the muffled shrieks, ive seen the way she licks her lips when eying up at me, surely i look tasty, i'd really rather not be eaten. devoured, destroyed, i think its fair to fear her nature".   
the blind man leans back, his hands clasped behind his head as he turns his face skyward
"oh grackle, of course she will devour you, there is no question there, its in her nature, the only question you must ask yourself is, is she worth that fate?.
the blind man pulls a fist of sunflower seeds from his pocket and drops them piled on the sitting stone between him and his friend,
he puts one between his teeth and cracks its shell.
....'this vixen, does she have a name?"

....My Queen, the grackle replys.