Black Fox Poem by Barry Middleton

Born to the ebon forest,
soft denizen of shaded copse,

once I thought I spotted her
vanishing in the forest green.

Again a tuft of raven fur,
a frill caught in blackberry,

hinted she passed this way.
Now the dusk is falling fast.

Tomorrow I will seek again.
As the Stygian fog rolls in,

I turn to find my way home
and hear her snappish bark.

The black fox is very near.
Her home is a trusted wood.