![]() The fox is alien, both other-worldly and eerily familiar part of, yet threatened by, the night “coming about its own business” both outside and inside the reader. Like the bubble, this fear seems at the same time tangible and an effect of imagination. The threat remains remote and unspecified what impinges with real urgency is the paralysis of fear. A moment in the nocturnal life of the fox becomes a moment of recognisably human anguish. It’ the psychological truth of the poem that impresses. The “bubble of death” which threatens to surround and stifle the fox seems at the same time transparent, insubstantial and hermetic. The sense and scent of the enemy as “an old wicked tang” is brilliantly realised. The fox is intensely alive: jet-black in the moonlight, aware of its own silky movement, its senses sharpened by fear and the hunting instinct. Uneven rhythms convey a sense of urgency and, by the end of the chase, enact a sense of breathlessness and threat. Supported by unforced alliteration, these bring clarity and depth. ![]() I admire the urgency of the first-person narration and the simplicity of line and language. Like that poem it’s far more than a nature exercise and the fox is much more than a wild creature. This poem reminds me strongly of Ted Hughes’s “The Thought Fox”. Hollie Pinchera, 10, Forden primary school, Welshpool, Powys ![]()
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