The Fox

October 4, 2011
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His bushy tail,

and coat of red,

So soft to touch,

yet hard to get,

He owns the night,

and summer suns,

That turns fur to firey red,
He wanders through the forest bright,
Small black eyes that light up the night,

Watch for prey,

or a snack to chew,
But he always runs away from you.

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