A Fox. Poem by Ann Beard
A Fox.
Quite out of place within the bustle,
trying hard to cross the road.
One misjudged step - suspicious rustle,
how it happened who would know.
As horror strikes each facial muscle
The creature’s heartbeat starts to slow.
A fox lay dying on the street,
once vibrant eyes began to glaze.
Now blind to cars, or careless feet,
he feels no urge to look around.
instead just lay upon the concrete,
oblivious, to passing sound.
A slender dog that once was wild,
in town so out of place.
Thank goodness it was not a child,
words uttered by a passer-by,
and as he hurried on he smiled.
I felt a chill, I heaved a sigh.
Roan Sept.2008
i can only agree with everyone else fantastic write. may i invite you to read my new poem called, justice part 2.
A slender dog that once was wild, in town so out of place. Thank goodness it was not a child, words uttered by a passer-by, Foxes and vixens still cherish your sweet sixteen memories in London.They come out every night to find Ann Beard.
Ann: Wonderful, is all I can say! A fellow fox lover. Adeline
Like this, very much. Agree with Fay's comments and... and as he hurried on he smiled. I felt a chill and heaved a sigh. a reaction to a heartless attitude....................10
I like this a lot, Ann....Your meticulous application of detail allows the reader to place themselves within the body of your poem....Mellifluous structuring...Stellar work, indeed, young lady! ~ F j R ~ __2008__
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:51:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A very moving poem Ann yet beautifully written. Best wishes, Andrew