Leaf 123 – Reflections
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When I was researching my family
history I visited a cemetery in East London. Here, amidst the tumbledown array
of old headstones, I happened upon a family of foxes. They seemed slightly
startled by my sudden appearance, but after a few moments of staring, they
simply carried on with their rough and tumble games, regardless. It was nice to
see them, unafraid and enjoying their own little world. I kept thinking about
them long after I left that rather forlorn-looking burial ground, and, in my
mind – when penning this poem – the scene somehow transmuted into a nocturnal
one. This was perhaps because on all of the occasions when I’ve seen foxes
before, it has usually been in the deep quiet of night.
Cavorting in the cemetery,
spirited high jinks afoot
– moon-shadowed foxes.
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