A russet brown streak shoots out of an alleyway
almost falling over my feet a bundle of fear and curiosity.
A young urban Fox all legs and lean body
taking to his heels he flees all the while wondering
what this apparition on two legs can be.
No countryside for this fine Reynard
Just some overgrown garden full of briar's and weeds
his dining table covered with a black plastic cloth.
Yet later in the day as he dozes on a sun warmed
galvanised shed roof does he dream of an unseen land
with soft earth for weary paws to run upon
Does his nose remember another scent other
than the acrid smell of diesel fumes
Do urban foxes dream of an unknown land.
Pangur-ban (S. J. Talmage)