Fox In The Garden

[jazzy_dave]

Fox In The Garden

by Jazzy D





The beans went quiet when he came
paw over paw through the runner poles,
no rustle, just a shifting of green
like breath pulled in.

He did not look at me.
Moss on his shoulders, night in his coat,
he was counting the fallen plums
with a scholar’s tilt of the head.

My trowel sat in the dirt, useless.
What is a garden but a table set
for someone hungrier than you?

He took one fruit, the wasp-marked one
I’d meant to throw. No thanks, no theft—
just the old agreement, renewed.
Then through the gap in the hawthorn,
where the light gives out,
he poured himself back into twilight.

After, the blackbirds started again,
and the beans remembered how to nod.
I left the rest of the plums
exactly where they were.




(Inspired by seeing Charlie the fox in my brother's garden)