A putrescent smell
led my daughter into the garden
where her four year old plays.
A dead fox:
couched and crouching,
head on a tussock of grass
as if looking ahead.
No visible injury;
poisoned perhaps?
The jaw was eaten
and maggots festooned the tail.
Hackney council will take and dispose in an hour.
But she dug a garden grave
laid the fox as a foetus
beneath a blanket of earth
with stones above
to prevent further violation.
Living in the future present 
How very lovely and gentle, guess this was an urban fox, but sounded like a very natural rural burial! so much better that a harsh unfeeling “urban disposal” —–Pax et Bonum Rita From: Living in the future present To: rita.hills@tiscali.co.uk Sent: Sunday, September 18, 2016 11:06 AM Subject: [New post] Thursday Fox
John Hodgson posted: ” A putrescent smell led my daughter into the garden where her four year old plays. A dead fox: couched and crouching, head on a tussock of grass as if looking ahead. No visible injury; poisoned perhaps? The jaw was eaten and mag”
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Thanks, Rita! I suppose that was what struck me about Hermione’s story.
Sent from my iPhone
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