The Fox

Last night the fox we feed in bowls behind
Our house came just at twelve.  His long, thick tail
Was bushier than last time and defined
By snow that had been falling in the veil
Of winter for white hours.  He took out
His chunks of food and one by one he stuck
Them in the heavy snow with shove of snout.
We wondered if he thought that he would tuck
Them there for later snacks, but then we guessed
He only wanted to enjoy white sauce
With every mouthful.  Reynard had French zest
For food and wanted it to give the gloss
Of snowflakes on his palate.  Bon apetit!
Enjoy your meals from us, rouge bel esprit!