The fox is sculpted in perfect solitude, understands the treachery of the human soul,

and avoids us for it;

But when the fox becomes seen through a quick glance of the eye,

by some moonlit and forgotten hedgerow, the heart leaps to the heavens in joy,

and with resounding support and respect,

but when gone and out of view,

the tenuous course of life falls upon us fast and cruel;

So, where are you tonight solemn fox,

with your strength, fearsome grace and clever suspicion,

are you licking your wounds in night rain, and waiting to fight again?

~ G McK