Not one critter goes by without confusion or regret.
Slips by swiftly like the sneakiest fox I ever met.
Gathering grasses and pieces of cloth for her nest,
She watched as the leaves twirled, waiting for the day to pass.
Watched it pass not minute by minute, but scare by scare.
And on her red back you could see the hair,
All stiff and on edge just crinkled enough to match her snarled snout.
Oh, what a life of solidarity and doubt.
Would it not be wiser to make your nest in the gypsies den?
Where all your thoughts would be how and not when.
You wanna be safe, lady fox?
You wanna live a life of certainty?
Well I’ve got bad news for you, miss.
You happen to be the wrong breed, you see?