This short lyric is a mix of memory and imagination. It is also an homage to Robert Frost, whose work I've been reading closely. Thought it out for two weeks, wrote it in two hours.Beach Road Fox
An ocean fog brings foxes out by day,
And, driving home, I scare one on its way
To meet a rabbit for an early meal,
A splotch of rust the light’s too dim to name
True red, its tail a curl of orange peel
Or the guttering appendage of a flame.
For spotting one, it’s not as if I owe
More than a look, but nearer now I slow
The car to watch it disappear among
Beach rose bushes there along the road
(A fox’s only debt is to its young)
In loping imitation of a toad.
© 2016 Steven Withrow, all rights reserved