We looked over the cliff and there were foxes
little foxes playing among the boulders
skipping wrangling scratching their fleas
and the vixen laying her length in the sun.
In and out among the boulders, tag, king of the castle
like so many lambs
and one threw a crab in the air.
A sound, perhaps a whiff of scent on the eddy
and instantly they were hard old foxes
hard wary old foxes without a second’s transition.
They vanished into the rocks and the cove
was utterly silent: rocks, the heat dancing
and a calm sea stretching away and away.