Almost before Janet had set up her typewriter high school student and aspiring writer Misha Ahmadi arrived to chat with Janet. Together with her friend they sat and talked all things books, writing and literary inspiration.
Inspired by our display of the car crash fox, Misha has penned this piece of verse and sent it to us. We are pleased and proud to share this beautiful poem with you and look forward to seeing Misha grow and develop into another wonderful writer nurtured by the Gympie region.
Rusty the fox
Stepping carefully along the ground,
Avoid the crunch,
Mothers words ringing in my ears,
Careful where you step,
I move forward again,
The gentle sweep of my tail on the ground,
careful not to disturb the brush
Don’t swish the leaves
Mother was smart.
But why isn’t the ground soft anymore?
Why is it so rough?
It doesn’t give under my feet,
It smells wrong,
I can hear mothers voice in my head,
Something is wrong,
I step further out,
The moon shines down it seems to say something,
The leaves in the trees seem to shake roughly, crying out a warning,
Everything is screaming no,
But the ground is shaking,
I can feel it up my legs and it hurts,
The earth is rumbling,
I tilt my head up and suddenly there are blinding lights,
Why does it hurt!
And then suddenly it all goes dark.
Another young girl has come in,
A soft white shirt and shorts with a delicate flower pattern is pointing at me,
I look away,
I don’t like looking at me.
My bones broken in too many places.
But she seems sad,
Her soft brown hair curls along the side of her face.
He needs a name she says quietly to her companions,
Why? They ask, it’s just a fox,
No, she said with a sad look, he needs a name,
She glanced around at all the other bones,
She looks down at me again, a soft smile gracing her face,
Rusty she says.
Rusty the fox.
I look at this girl, with her soft brown hair and wide green eyes,
The same colour as my forest I think,
Rusty the fox I repeat, and gently curl around her legs,
She looks down like she can see me, Rusty the fox she says as she smiles softly down at me.
Don’t worry she whispers, like it’s a secret just between us,
I’m broken just like you she murmurs just for me,
The same gentle smile curling along her lips,
The only difference is my broken is deeper inside, and you can’t see it.
I look up at her and curl even tighter around her legs.
Rusty I whisper.
I’m Rusty the fox
~ Misha Ahmadi, 2022
Thank you, again, to Janet for generously sharing her time and expertise with our community during the AuRUM Festival.