amid the surly, gnarled oaks
blown bare of every leave
dried acorns fallen on the ground
beneath arthritic arms bent low
the tiniest of figures lay
curled tightly in a warming ball

snow falling fat as fluffy down
ice crystals sparkling on guard hairs
spasmodic shivers from the form
the little fox alone and lost
its mother shot before daylight
at farmer’s place, in chicken's coop

then out the snowy, swirling mist
appears another fox, then three
the kit fox raises up his eyes
and understands salvation’s voice

oh, venture not near farmer’s land
seek sustenance from out the wild
a cottontail, or partridge fat
but chickens and the Christmas goose
leave those unto the farmer’s use!