The Fox: A Chance Encounter

The Fox: A Chance Encounter

Last evening I spied,

Along a quiet road,

An elegance and grace,

From Heaven's hands bestowed.

My lights fell full upon,

A figure proud and vain,

Who looked at me with scorn,

That bordered on disdain.

So silently he moved,

To get out of the light,

I watched him trotting by,

And slipping out of sight.

But firm in my resolve,

That this was practiced flight,

I guessed he would return,

To here this very night.

I idled down the road,

Then saw him once again,

This time his cunning glance,

Was asking where I'd been.

Now sure that he was free,

Of any pressing care,

He finished off his work,

As if I wasn't there.