Driving through cool crisp air
And winding roads at night.
It is winter, but the world here is cold, not snowy.
It never snows here. The chilly sparkle that should be
Glinting, isn’t. Tall, bowed limbs struggle
From the heaviness of slumber, but not the weight of ice.
It was this night, driving home,
Half dreaming already, that I saw you.
Slinking cooly into the roadway.
Sly Fox never meant so much to me
As it did then.
You and I looking
Looking at each other.
You never slowing
Your unhurried gait; I slowed to watch.
As you, smooth and sleek, unexpected rust
Against black of night, black of street.
Just one shock of white underbelly: winter white.
I looked at you and you
Watched me, wary, watch you
cross lanes and lanes into inky forest
Gone in a wink, gone just like that,
Sly fox. Winter Fellow.
Dismissing me with caution.