Poetry By John Cannon


Infinite Mysteries
Poetry By John Cannon

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Infinite Mysteries
Poetry By John Cannon

Walking at dusk,
for one brief moment
the faintest whiff of musk
teases my nostrils,
 
I know this place
on the trail
and have sensed
this musk before,
 
It’s the ephemeral scent
of a red fox;
 
Not at all as heavy
as most animal smells,
it barely touches
your awareness,
 
Like other fox traits,
it’s so delicate
and fleeting
it seems almost mystical;
 
Did I really smell it?
was she really here?
or is this magical animal
a mirage?
 
An elaborate illusion
created by Mother Nature
to remind me
of her infinite mysteries.