To-day, the hunter in curious corduroys,
saw he in the leather boots and
fur cap through the unbroken forest,
leaning on his gun and covered with
small buildings from the little colony.
In the summer, his dream had fallen asleep
where he stood and waited for himself.
Sidewalks and flower-beds covered the man
at his base - green lawns, houses
with proches rose steeply over the spot and
out of sight.
The inhabitants stood on a runway
and graciously waved.
As the other hunter gazed intently
upon all of them,
he saw that they were hemmed in
from the tracks of a fox that waited
in the cold afternoon.
A dream built inside out would come true.
None but the hunter built it
d e e p in the woods,
where time has swept away the outside
as the fox run think on a midwinter mountainside .