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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=450269" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Telling Our Stories</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=450269" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">the fox came every evening to my door<br>asking for nothing. my fear<br>trapped me inside, hoping to dismiss her<br>but she sat till morning, waiting.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=450269" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">at dawn we would, each of us,<br>rise frm our haunches, look through the glass<br>then walk away.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=450269" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">did she gather her village around her<br>and sing of the hairless moon face,<br>the trembling snout, the ignorant eyes?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=450269" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">child, i tell you now it was not<br>the animal blood i was hiding from,<br>it was the poet in her, the poet and<br>the terrible stories she could tell.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Lucille+Clifton">Lucille Clifton</a></strong></div>

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