Christmas Poems 3

Who Killed The Thought-Fox?

Perhaps it is the decline of winter
as a season – and I visualise now
the paw-prints at their best in a
Christmas snow – but it is more
than this: a cruel warmth
melts the habitat, and freedom to
roam has been curtailed by trips and
traps set by new hunters who know
no better. If this is acceptable
than anything else that could be
imagined to the full might as well
die too, and the murderers can come
running with their measuring tapes
sizing up this final kill.

– 2006

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