Day 12 – Mr Fox

You asked me to send you a poem.
I sent you an old one, generic in intent
(though you were in there).
I never wrote one just for you,
till now.

We never shared that bottle of champagne.
I never wore that silk dress for you –
(they didn’t make it in my size.)
You never got what you deserved,
yet you were always kind.

I saw you run across a snowy field.
I saw no hounds upon your tail, and I was glad.

I never felt that I deserved you,
but I remember you with fondness.
Do you remember me,
my foxy-whiskered friend?

Linda Rushby 12 April 2020