NERO
—from Rattle #58, Winter 2017
__________
Fred Fox: “At 103 years old, I still look up and say, ‘If anyone is listening, thank you for another nice day!’ In poetry I boil things down to an essence.”
NERO
—from Rattle #58, Winter 2017
__________
Fred Fox: “At 103 years old, I still look up and say, ‘If anyone is listening, thank you for another nice day!’ In poetry I boil things down to an essence.”
HORSEFLY
—from Rattle #48, Summer 2015
__________
Fred Fox: “At 100 years old, I look up and say, ‘If anyone is listening, thank you for another nice day!’ In poetry I boil things down to an essence. Rather than pages and pages of rambling. I like that.”
Fred Fox
THE SEA
I am walking along the sea shore
on a brilliantly sunny day.
Looking at myriads of stones polished
by eons of moving waters.
They are old, old.
Countless centuries old.
Yet the fresh, azure ocean
is far older than the stones!
—from Rattle #37, Summer 2012
Fred Fox
WHY NOT?
In the entrance
to a vacant store
stands a shopping cart
full of bric-a-brac.
Behind it, on the stone floor,
sleeps a ragged clothed body.
All that man owns
is in the shopping cart.
I pause, wonder,
what does he eat?
Where does he bathe?
Has he any friends?
I could wake him.
Give him a dollar
and ask him.
I can’t disturb him.
Though asleep
on a public street
his privacy is respected
by everyone passing by,
I lock my door when I retire.
I worry, have a shotgun.
I have an idea.
It sounds crazy.
I’ll put on ragged clothes.
Fill a shopping cart with junk.
Find a vacant store entrance
and get a good night’s sleep!
—from Rattle #23, Summer 2005
Fred Fox
HOSANNA TO LIFE
For years my ego fooled me.
I carried the world on my shoulders.
I now realize how inane that was
Living within a self-imposed island.
Achieving inner peace, my vision expanded.
I embraced the vastness of the unknown.
Though I am less than a grain of sand.
That concept does not humble me.
My ego remains big.
A grain of sand owns its Universe.
During my time alive
Increasing awareness makes life tastier.
With each heartbeat one word resounds.
It keeps repeating, “yes, yes, yes.”
—from Rattle #26, Winter 2006
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