shortly expected mimicry of the heard
unveiling the sculpture he sits he smokes
is painted as such the pastoral field
of the fallen fenceposts scatter frightened flocks
pull down the net caught once
ruddy fox lying amongst the ramblers' feet
holding indignity more children should jump
from trees or roll with punches
overturned what hand can lay upon itself
drained and returned to nature the eyes of that fox
the eyes of a future light pollution
and the truth is a let down where is my limit
of my want or greed to digest
to wake each morning tasting regret