The fox lies in her lair so snug,
was freshly dug last week.
She’s feeling just a little smug,
and stirs to take a peek.
It’s almost time to forage out,
and checks to see just who’s about,
It’s almost time,
It’s almost time
to leave when there’s no doubt.
Her thick red tail is hanging low –
she senses there’s no threat -
she has some places picked to go
to feed her young quartet.
Back in their nest, the kits lie still,
and know that soon they’ll have their fill.
Back in their nest,
back in their nest
they trust in mother’s skill.
She stops to check for sights and sounds,
and sniffs the nighttime air.
Then suddenly, with leaps and bounds,
she catches prey with flair.
There’ll be enough to give her four
a feast of feasts and even more.
There’ll be enough
there’ll be enough,
she brings back more than she’d hope for.
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