Conversing with a Fox on a November Evening

Artwork by Robert Farkas

The lonely walk with an ache in their step.

They walk soundlessly. Fearful 
of having their nightmares retold to them.

November’s fingers edge up my neck as I pad along noiselessly –

a solitary shadow against the ebony sky.

Suddenly I stop. You stand transfixed in your tracks –

a fox as lonely as me.

Your orange fur bleeds colour into the night. Your ears twitch –

friend or foe? They seem to question.

Your nose, pointed and whiskered, is moist with anticipation.

I smile at your black feet – black –

the colour of stealth.   

We stand awhile, watching our loneliness 
mirrored in each other’s stance. We linger

in the uncertain warmth of our unexpected rendezvous

And for a moment,

 we, strangers on this solitary night,

are not so lonely.

The moment swells and bursts.

I watch as you slip away quietly into your darkness

And I into mine.