Potten End

Just coming back at 11.15
Close to the cross roads
There in a group
Three little foxes
All cock a hoop
Polishing off a kill it appeared
Some road kill I think
Feathers were spilled
They wouldn’t budge
Despite my lights
I got out to tell them
Go home it’s late
And they finally did
Which I must say was great

It’s amazing this wild life
Just there, their high tea
Bolting it rapidly
For me to see
Them not a care in the world
Seemingly
This disabled twit calling them
Our eyes did see
Each other, for certain where was mama
They didn’t seem nervous
Goddess knows where they are

Now