Vixen

While walking down a snowy road

On a lonely sojourn that took me

Some distance into the country

I encountered a vixen

Having given birth by the side

Of the dirt and gravel road after

Being struck by a passing vehicle.

Her gestation was at an end.

Her kits were gone, frozen

In the bright red snow, but

The vixen looked at me with

A glittering, aware golden eye.
She panted a cloud of steam
That froze instantly in the air.

I could do nothing for her

Except end her suffering, and

I was weak and failed her

In this one important task.

So I squatted and waited for

The cold to do its work.

She chuffed at me, and yawned

A startling and unexpected action

But I whispered, “You’re tired,

Girl, go to sleep now,” and

She seemed to hear me and

Closed her golden eye.

I heard a yip, and looked up to see

What was probably her mate

Turn and dash into the undergrowth.

When I looked back at the vixen

I saw that her breathing had stopped
And she, too, was gone.