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The Hedgehog and the Fox
At dusk a fox walked down the street
searching for any scraps to eat.
Across gardens and down folks’ drives,
oblivious to many peoples lives.
An adult hedgehog scurrying by
caught the watchful fox’s eye.
Being a fox it instinctively thought,
this meal was as good as caught.
It stopped and sniffed it from head to foot,
and couldn’t believe its stroke of luck.
However, a time for friendship this was not,
the wise hedgehog had sussed the plot.
Waiting on ceremony was not its style at all,
the hedgehog rolled into a ball.
A predicament not met by the fox before,
which made the creature a mite unsure.
A tentative touch here, a gentle touch there,
but this wasn’t getting it anywhere.
It touched it again then licked its paw,
this was an enigma, that’s for sure.
Taking two paces back there it sat,
wondering how to unroll it flat.
It suddenly got up and peed on the ball,
but the hedgehog never flinched at all.
From four paces away the fox sat and observed,
waiting for the hedgehog to lose its nerve.
It peed on it once more, and again sat down,
and waited for it to become unwound.
It waited and waited, and became distracted,
then like a spring the hedgehog reacted,
through the grass and over a high fence,
leaving the fox bemused by its sudden absence.
poem
by
Orlando Belo
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