I Feared Foxes Poem by Margaret O Driscoll

In my childhood I feared foxes
Sly stealthy foxes that stole hens from haggards
White flurries of Leghorn feathers by hay sheds
A trail of rust coloured feathers ripped from Rhode Island Reds

From their earthen dens on gorse-covered hillsides they raided
Until a bounty for their culling was announced
Snares were set along their well-trodden paths on ditches
Their bushy white-tipped tails given as evidence of each kill

One day I heard someone found a severed fox paw in a snare
That got me thinking of foxes without my usual fear
I pondered on whether this wild creature could survive
If the paw was from a front limb that caught prey
I sadly felt there was no way