Taking The Egg, Leaving Some Scraps…
The heat of its torso switched on the camera, placed
At a corner of the wintering lawn, its sensory red light
Glowing. The fox moved cautiously and stealthily
Towards a metal ground feeder during a drizzly night
And nuzzled out preferred scraps with minimal haste.
Its hesitancy was clear, nervously aware of its exposed plight
And its eyes were watchful, untrusting, as rather warily
They scanned for danger, its lithe body poised for imminent flight…
The egg remained untouched until the fox’s hunger was satisfied,
For only then did it turn its attention and bright-eyed glare
To the white shell. It sniffed at it but then calmly applied
A delicacy of removal, then beat silky retreat with maximum care…
Pete Ray
1st February 2024…
Delightful to watch a fox take an egg from a ground feeder, as if it was a kind of delicate treasure and slip away to either feed upon it, or maybe stash it in a safe place…
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