Anna who rocked her head, and Paul who grew big and yet giggled small, Irma who looked Chinese, and Hans who knew his world as a fox knows a field. Hunted with needles, exposed, unfed, this time in their thousands they bore sad cuts for having gaped, and shuffled, and failed to field the lore of prey and hound they then had to thump and cry in the vans that ran while stopped in Dog Fox Field. Our sentries, whose holocaust does not end, they show us when we cross into Dog Fox Field.-Les Murray, from the book Dog fox field.