Dreary Pavements and Roads
In the dusky afternoon traffic
of a grey tarmac day
an urban fox stands by
a zebra crossing, military still.
The fox’s coat is
a scotch bonnet spice
to the drone of the day
peppering flavour to the scene.
Her brush-tailed rush
across the crossing stripes
is a slash of surprise
and elegant motion.
So alive, awake,
she alights on dancer’s feet.
A wild spirit who sees
and is often not seen.
No one slips as silent
as she, hunting hedgerow mice
and night -black bags,
crunching small bones.