through the white

the sheen
and bloom of the red
fox
on the path,
still,
and nervous
as you walk towards
it,
far enough away
to keep you
both out of danger.
what brings you
out into the snow
he must think,
this day is his, free
to roam,
no bike or stroller
no runners
to make him
hide, to burrow
between tree and stone.
just you,
knee deep, walking
through the white,
traveling alone.