With purpose, yet strangely cowed, the fox trots

Past sleeping beggars through the city’s gloom.

He is out of his territory here,

And far from the comfort of what he knows;

So falls back on the bags and open bins.

Scavenging, with teeth as sharp as needles,

He feeds off this wretched underbelly

Like a king, lounging on his shop-soiled throne.

That said, at quiet times he must think back

To countryside routines he left behind

When following that trail to take that turn,

Ignoring pleas from family and friends.

Now he patrols the wastes of instinct’s creed,

Clasping survival by stealth and by greed.

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Stephen Gospage

Mon 24th Jan 2022 16:49

Thanks to your Your Royal Poetess for liking this poem.

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Stephen Gospage

Sun 23rd Jan 2022 21:47

Food for thought, Brenda! Many thanks for your kind comments.

And thanks to Julie.

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Brenda Wells

Sat 22nd Jan 2022 18:44

I particularly enjoyed:
'Like a king, lounging on his shop-soiled throne.'
So far from his pastoral origins!
Great image, like a foxy Del-boy!

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Stephen Gospage

Sat 22nd Jan 2022 16:39

Thanks to Keith, M.C., Julie and John for the interesting comments.

The urban fox is a reality now. In a way, we have attracted them in with all our rubbish etc while making the countryside less pleasant for them., As you say, MC, the city offers them plenty of scope for their activities. I also wonder how the cats feel about it, especially if they have had the monopoly of the bags and bins in the past.

Like you, Keith, I feel that there is a sense in which urban foxes are 'out of their territory', even though they adapt well. I tried to reflect this idea of occasional homesickness in the poem.

Julie - Sorry to hear that. It is a wonderful sight. We are lucky to have had several encounters.

John - Thanks for you kind words. Although a fox may live well (or well enough) in town, I think (and hope) that a part of it must still hanker for the rural life.

Thanks to Nigel, Stephen A, Rudyard, Holden, Jimakos, Ursula, Clare and Julia M for liking this poem.

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John Botterill

Fri 21st Jan 2022 23:24

Brilliant imagery. To me you have conjured up a fox exactly. Love the lines
Like a king, lounging on his
Shop- soiled throne
Perfect! 😀

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julie callaghan

Fri 21st Jan 2022 17:40

I live in the countryside and go on regular don’t think I’ve ever seen a live one 😢

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M.C. Newberry

Fri 21st Jan 2022 17:27

The city fox is not unknown to me here in central London. On a
number of occasions we have passed each other in the evening's
gloom,; me strolling, my nearby companion trotting past on the
opposite footway. The parks, squares and gardens offer new
homes, while the railway and underground lines provide these
incomers with access for their forays into urban living. I often
wonder how the resident wandering feline population deal with
these incursions into their territory..

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keith jeffries

Fri 21st Jan 2022 17:20

A powerful poem of the urbanisation of our wild life. I have witnessed this myself and it makes me feel sad to see these handsome creatures, natural predators, struggling to get inside
a wheely bin.
A good poem and thanks for this

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