Wednesday 20 December 2017

Humans and Foxes


We get foxes round our neighbourhood. We had a skulk of youngsters visit our garden every evening this summer and we'd sit at the kitchen window in the twilight watching them dodge in and out of the hedges at the back and play their curious game with my son's football. A few times they stole shoes from outside the door and dropped them around the surrounding gardens until we learned to bring them in at the end of the day. As the cubs matured, they became less bold and by autumn they'd stopped coming round to play, preferring to roam the streets alone.

I started this piece by saying that we get foxes round our way, but the more I think about it, we don't get foxes at all.

Humans and Foxes


I was walking home midnight last
Thinking about the day
When a shape creeps along the path
And doesn’t know what to say
I see how he turns his head
And the way that he holds his tail
And I’m wondering how he’s feeling
Cos he doesn’t give much away.

I look into his curious face
I ask him to give me a clue
I don’t get what it means to be me
I say, what does it mean to be you?
He says he’s just looking for food
I say why don’t I bring you a feast
You can share with your vulpine kin,
Take my burdens and leave me some peace?

Well that’s what I thought we agreed
But when I go back he’s away
So I sit by the side of the road,
Finish the chocolate soufflé.
Well maybe he didn’t believe
When I said I’d bring something to eat
There are things that get lost in translation
When humans and foxes meet
Humans and foxes meet
Humans and foxes meet
Humans and foxes.

October 2016