survival

I take the trash bag to the curb.
it's late.

raining, but at the edge
of the woods

I see the red fox patiently
waiting,

crouched, his eyes lit
up
from the street lamp.

he's hungry.
we're all hungry for something.

food, love.

survival for him
is no

different for me, I think,
as my

eyes catch the light as well.