the slender
fox, thickened with
a bush of blonde
and red,
so light on his paws
as he
hurriedly crosses
the white mirror
of the ice
crusted lake.
shiny as a blue coin
below the winter
sun.
swiftly he moves to the other side.
he's onto
something.
survival and death
come
naturally.
he won't be late.
Monday, March 9, 2020
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