The black fox skin a shadow cast from the roof nigh to the floor; And sleek it seemed and soft it gleamed, and the woman stroked it o'er; And the man stood by with a brooding eye, and gnashed his teeth and swore. When thieves and thugs fall out and fight there's fell arrears to pay; And soon or late sin meets its fate, and so it fell one day That Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike fanged up like dogs at bay. "The skin is mine, all mine," she cried; "I did the deed alone." "It's share and share with a guilt-yoked pair", he hissed in a pregnant tone; And so they snarled like malamutes over a mildewed bone. And so they fought, by fear untaught, till haply it befell One dawn of day she slipped away to Dawson town to sell The fruit of sin, this black fox skin that had made their lives a hell. She slipped away as still he lay, she clutched the wondrous fur; Her pulses beat, her foot was fleet, her fear was as a spur; She laughed with glee, she did not see him rise and follow her. The bluffs uprear and grimly peer far over Dawson town; They see its lights a blaze o' nights and harshly they look down; They mock the plan and plot of man with grim, ironic frown. The trail was steep; 'twas at the time when swiftly sinks the snow; All honey-combed, the river ice was rotting down below; The river chafed beneath its rind with many a mighty throe. And up the swift and oozy drift a woman climbed in fear, Clutching to her a black fox fur as if she held it dear; And hard she pressed it to her breast -- then Windy Ike drew near. She made no moan -- her heart was stone -- she read his smiling face, And like a dream flashed all her life's dark horror and disgrace; A moment only -- with a snarl he hurled her into space. She rolled for nigh an hundred feet; she bounded like a ball; From crag to crag she carromed down through snow and timber fall; . . . A hole gaped in the river ice; the spray flashed -- that was all. A bird sang for the joy of spring, so piercing sweet and frail; And blinding bright the land was dight in gay and glittering mail; And with a wondrous black fox skin a man slid down the trail. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAMB, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A FAREWELL [TO C.E.G.] by CHARLES KINGSLEY A WINTER WISH by ROBERT HINCKLEY MESSINGER PARRHASIUS by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS THE WITCHES' FROLIC by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THIS WAY FOR ROMANCE by BERTON BRALEY EPITAPH ON A FRIEND by ROBERT BURNS |