Foxes
Jane Nash: Poem ‘Foxes’
It starts when sly hands pluck
Static goods, supermarket, newsagent
The close captioned television
Recording each gesture, each movement
Guilt is transmitted long before action
Like crows like ravens
Deciding together to steal
En-masse tiny eggs
Lost shiny earrings, pretty stones
Benign in my observations
There’s no one to report to
No checks or balances in the animal kingdom
Sticky fingers attach themselves
Only foxes have no restraint on greed
Whilst the leaders of the world
Throw missiles at each other
Their greed unchecked
We are no more than a den of foxes