The Fox | 28

Several years had gone and passed,

With great transitional change,

The Woodland remained a flurry of life,

Of creatures great and small.

And in the deepest corner,

In the shadow of The Mighty Oak,

A remnant of the past.

An icon of The Stoat remained,

A petite epitaph.

Not one small creature questioned,

Nor did the great consider,

The history of this epitaph

Of the poor, defenceless creature.

Consigned completely to the history books,

The Stoat was just a memory.

The Fox, The Wolf, and their descendants

In splendor, and arrogance,

Their past they overlooked.

(C) R Stephens, 2019

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s