The Fox And Hound Poem by C.A. Morrow

If life is a fox, are we the howling hound?
Forever chasing toward the greener hills
Down on the moors searching firmer ground
Hunting forward for those distant thrills

Over the stone walls of crooked lines
Fresh is the scent that was passed down
Through fields of mist there are no signs
Forging furrows as only the clock chimes

But the fox is wiley and oh so shrewd
He leads us on for miles and years
As the ages pass only memories intrude
While youth fades and time draws tears

Oh, the hunt grows harder as the sun sets
And the worn trail gets colder as we age
But the fox, he never slows nor forgets
As darkness falls on the lonely stage

So when the rusty bugle finally calls
The pack halts to the steely sound
But has the fox made a fool of us all?
For where is the fox and who is the hound?