Wednesday, April 27, 2011
empty, fox, faces
Shadow of an empty glass.
Last night a fox - I suspect a vixen because dog foxes are supposed to bark just once or twice - emits a series of raucous scream outside our window, - a welcome reminder that something wild and out of our control can exist so close us.
An old woman, slightly bowed passes our table outside The Ragged Trousers. She wears a tweed suit, and walks with the aid of a stick. Here face is long, her mouth wide and expressive. As I often do nowadays, as I get older myself, I find that I have a picture of the younger face buried in the older one.