First and last

For dverse.

First and last

Night comes last to the crown of the hill,
first to the shadows below,
a ring of stars shines in the dark sky,
wedding midnight and dawn with its glow.

Fox sniffs the dark, earth-scented and cold,
hears vixen bark, this nightโ€™s growing old.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

49 thoughts on “First and last”

  1. I really have a soft spot for unadulterated poetry about nature….the description here is beautiful, but also precise…if a vixen barks then there is danger about, either a lynx if in northern climes or hunters, dome with their dog. Here those shooting wild boar can be heard quite near.

    1. Yes, it might well be someone creeping about with a gun. We get the wild boar hunters too, but only in packs, in daylight, and they make sure the entire countryside knows they’re about.

      1. Yes….a lot here, sometimes fairly near a road through the forest I often take…here usually in the morning or at dusk/night ..I wonder sometimes…all that must not take away from your beautiful description.

      2. Yes…aside from the moral arguments they do kill a number people each year..

      3. The human deaths (or fear of being the next one) have started a debate here, but the hunting lobby, along with the gun lobby and all that entails, is a powerful one. I hope they shut them down, but people are afraid of antagonising them, especially in the countryside. As I said, they have the guns and they’re trigger happy.

        I’ve just read your poem and it’s heartbreaking. No other word. We like to point moral fingers at emigrants, which are the deserving cases (we usually decide very very few) and which are the scivers, just looking for a better life (as if that’s so reprehensible). You point out one of those tragic victims most would agree is a true deserving case, but we have looked the other way. Such hypocrites.

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