Bluebird Dreams of Red Fox And then as the eastern sky colors like the skin of an over-ripened peach, you appear — as if I conjured you — pirouetting under my hemlock perch with your death-kiss-is-beautiful kind of allure — gangly, untamable, too proud — and then you belly-creep home. I know about your fatal… The post “Bluebird Dreams of Red Fox” first appeared on Chapter 16.
