When snow falls
on the back of the wild fox,
she becomes a pale blue shadow.
At night in a blizzard
the shadow comes running down
straight from the mountain,
circling the fences in a frozen village,
moving around the orange dreams of the people.
The blue shadow, before they know it,
sits in front of a chicken coop.
Before dawn in February,
in the gleam of a damask mantle of snow
the vixen returns to the mountain.
She is pregnant.