The Foxes

It's almost time for foxes,

The end of winter brings the sound

Of canids bringing cubs around

As March sees fences creaking

And snouts see whiskers peeking through

We wait for April to meet you

On the first of month of May

Three brand new litter bounce and prance

All through the Summer our cubs dance

Then summer hides behind clouds

The cubs are grown and look for mates

We’ll see their cubs peek out next May