The Vixen

 
The sun,stranger from the night
to night retired leaving
in pale reluctant solitude
the night-watch moon.
Before his last farewell
his declining heat set on fire
woodland larches facing west.
Cool in the darkened valleys
oak and ash and quicks
sombre the slopes and fields,
greens merging into grey.
Mirror-black pools,
reflect the grinning skull
drifting in the navy-blue
that is again the night,
darkening 'til all is black
and nature sleeps content,
leaving owl and bat
to keep the peace,
while the maternal vixen
suckles her playful brood,
weary from their boistrous day.