O fox, if I could see behind your eyes
To the bright workings of your feral mind
Perhaps I could begin to understand
Why fables have you painted quick and wise.

Instead, I grasp the glimpses you allow–
The cautious flutter of your sail-like ears;
The tail that flicks like flame, and disappears
Into the shadow of a fallen bough.

Perhaps this, then, is how you show your wit:
In keeping far away from human sight.
The color of your shining coat, blood-bright
Is all the understanding you permit.

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