Winter Fox Wakes Not The Flowers

As dawns winter breeze raps her damp chill around the still trees, The morning sun peeks and sends meagre warmth to grasp, Black clouds unwanted hurry by, leaves rustle to please That turns from green to sunshine silver not to last. A solitary fox stands out crossing a snow clad field Silent stealth, as if not to wake sleeping spring flowers, Knows natures shopping cart as not much to yield Then changes tracks into the cover of the forest wooden towers. Nothing is growing all conserving for the burst of spring, Then the fox appears prey in mouth he caught as he leapt, His family snug in his den knowing sustenance he will bring. Life goes on living to natures rule for the adept