Lone Fox

Lone fox lopes across a corn field
Frozen and buried in snow.
Remnants of corn stalks push through
Baring broken and torn roots to the wind.
A noise stops the wary fox in his tracks
His ears swivel and he slowly surveys the field.
Satisfied there is no danger he moves on
Stops and listens with one ear held close
Near the snow as he seeks, searches.
With a practiced jump, pushing off with long legs
He pops into the air and buries his muzzle in snow.
Raising his head, he throws a mouse morsel in the air
Catches it with relish, swallows and lopes on.