The fox fled over the fields away from the farm
and the furious farmer.
His fur was freaked.
His foxy face was frantic as he flew. A few feathers
fluttered out of his mouth.
The fox
had broken his fast with a feast of fowl!
The farmer had threatened to flay the fur
from his frame.
The frightened fox flung himself
at a fence.
The fox found himself in a fairground,
with a Ferris Wheel, flashing lights, fruit machines, fish
in plastic bags.
Furtively, he foraged for food- fragments of candy floss, french fries-
but a fella folding fivers into his fist
flicked a fiery fag at the fox and the fox foxed off.
Further and further fled the fox, through Forfar, Fife, Falkirk,
forests, fields, Fleetwood, Fazakerley, thunder and fog,
famished and fearful;
forcing his furry features into family bins, filching thrown-away food.
Thief fox, friendless fox, thin fox.
Finally he came at first light to a faraway farm...
where the fox fed himself full till his face was fat
and forlorn feathers floated away on the frosty air.