Sharing Spring

As I was not there
to see the young fox  
emerge from its den beneath 
the neighborhood bench,
witness the inquisitive eyes 
confronting the camera,
watch its black boots bound
across the sloping dune,
the white tip of its tail disappear
among the first reeds of spring,
a neighbor sent me a photograph.

Instead, I stood at a window
seven miles from our home,
one arm around my mother,
and pointed to the young maple
rising above the cattails, 
its pencil-like trunk bending
under the weight of a furry body
plumper and more awkward
than a squirrel; tail flatter,
rounder than an otter;
inching too far up the tree
to be a beaver; a woodchuck,
perhaps, climbing 
to the topmost branches
to nibble the first
of the lime green leaves. 

Thanks to Rob Spaargaren for sharing the photograph of the red fox pup.