The Fox that Knocked

A frozen Georgia night.
The pecan grove, in dappled light.
Full moon shone.
Lighting a lonely camper called “home”.

Solitude sought, on leaf covered ground.
A search without beginning.
A quest without end
For something once lost, but never quite found.

A thud on the door. Who can this be?
The window is frosted, and I cannot see.
Moonlit glow and shivering cold.
Wishing I had worn a few more clothes.

Silver fur sparkles and dead leaves rustle.
Unspoken greeting makes memories flutter.
Regal as queen she started to prance.
Her silver tail flew as she began her dance.

This way and that, then her eyes locked with mine.
Drawn into their depths, I felt a part of me unwind.
Whispers and glimpses flashed in my mind,
of something once lost, but never quite found.

Ancient eyes held me and called
Her voice still sings when the red leaves fall.
Pausing at the woods, a promise was made.
“Follow me and nothing will ever be the same.”

She beckoned and called and looked straight into my soul.
But, it was late; I was cold.
She tilted her head, one last plea.
Then she vanished into the woods before me.

Another chance, may I have one?

Please?