Fox

Poem

A fox
On edge

He studies me
In silence

I didn’t see him
I lifted my head
And a few meters away
The fox

Thin
With sharp eyes

Uneasy to see me
But
In the end
Not so uneasy

I speak to him
In a
Soft
Voice

He doesn’t move
Turns his head
To look at me
Again

I pass
Very
Close to him

Really
Very
Close

The path
Allows
No other way
It’s narrow

The fox
Does not move
He watches me

I walk on
At ease

Surprised

Happy
To be surprised