Here she eyes the poet and the photographer hiding in the bush or lurking somewhere
or, maybe behind a glass-window shut like a typical ******.
pointed ears pricked up eyes glittering but not cold as depicted in a horror tale
the bushy tail---fan and broom to clear the muck around
the long snout primed up for unusual smells especially--- of two-legged threats
the lady fox much demonized in the human world free in the wilds like a bird
ready for the ramp-walk in the jungle, her---daily theater!
About encounters different. A poet friend saw this fox living in the bush, Australia and sent the picture clicked by him---that pic, inspiration for the poem.