14 May 2012
I must admit its just how I imagined it to be,
The fox has left the den and now is sitting here with me,
Sly and smiling, so polite but eyeing up my neck,
I wonder if this clever fox means to bite or peck.
Red as summer evenings, sun stretched in the sky,
The dropping light is nothing more than trickery and lies,
The atmosphere it bends the light, refracts it through the air,
The glowing sunset watched together wasn't even there.
This animal with fur of any colour that you choose,
Born to always suffer, born to always lose.
The Fox • Opuss № I