The sun comes up

 in a land far away,

With its snow covered ground,

this great Place with No Name.

Light glistens on glaciers from wintery moon

And perpetual snow covered lightly with dew.

Yet on this hill of great white,

I do not find delight,

For I tramp in the snow round a tree.

But I am not alone,

Though I’m quite far from home,

For Mr. Fox travels with me.

Now in this vast land

Of snow covered sand,

My story grows stranger indeed.

For the sun never sets,

Only rises again,

And it sparks up a need to get free.

Yet my dear Mr. Fox – 

in his dark vest and socks –

Walks on two hind legs and decrees,

“We’ll be there quite soon,

And that much is true,

Just follow me, dear, and you’ll see.”

So I follow him on and on and on,

‘Till we near the familiar tree.

And the odd Mr. Fox (who never grows older)

Takes a swift, cautious look over his left shoulder,

And what do his green eyes see?

The sun on its rise -

Light now filling the skies -

And then the Fox speaks to me,

“We are short of time,

And our plans on the line,

If you don’t do your best to hurry.

Yet we shall arrive soon,

My friend – ‘tis true,

If you just keep on following me.”

So with glove-covered hand 

pushing down on his hat,

And his other wrapped round his umbrella,

We venture on,

 through the bulk of the dawn,

And I follow the rather odd fellow.

Now what’s strange of our travel,

Is, hour after hour,

We go nowhere but ‘round this old tree.

Though I told him to change,

Or at least rearrange,

This old Fox wouldn’t listen to me,

“To get where you’re going,

You must go where you’ve been”,

Said the Fox as he told me to still follow him.

So my mind stops its racing

And swift question chasing,

And I reason I’ll do as he pleads.

Now, this way was quite strange,

But how does one change,

When this is what she’s always known?

Questions still fill my head,

About my weary tread,

But how can I dream or hope to escape,

From a strange Mr. Fox,

And a Land with No Name?

Written in 2010