Puppyhead leapt,
up
from bed,
to the door she raced.

special high pitched bark
reserved for the fox.

learned did I,
the hard way,
not to open the door.

not to let puppyhead
go racing out,
full speed ahead,
out into the night.

wild and free,
and right straight
after
yet another
wild life.

so we watch,
from behind
closed door,

peering out into
the dark of the night.

shadow moving around,
surveilling the ground,
a white tipped tail
barely visible as past it moves.

mean feel I,
for not opening
that door.

puppyhead barks,
ooks up at my head,
then out to that yard.

"Why can't I be out there
now,
alone with that fox?"

learned I,
the hard way,
puppyhead won't
back down.

neither will the
wild nocturnal creatures,
who visit our den,

during the very dark,
the dark,
of the middle of the night.

so I creep silently
up the stairs,
every so quietly,

so puppyhead
won't hear,
won't want to follow,
won't want to come,
out here with me instead.

open a door,
do I,
a door to a deck.

alone stand I
peering down into the dark,
the dark of the night.

hearing that fox
moving about,
creeping along fence line,

finding a place,
a place of
escape.

almost free,
to continue to roam
through this night,
this dark,
& beautiful night.

she leaps in one
graceful arc,
up and over
high gate.

pads off she goes,
into this night,

roaming along
this solitary creature,

taking such free flight
on this magical night.

2:30 am

dark,
quiet.

gentle rain falls,

silent but for the drops.