Conversing with a Fox on a November Evening - Chandni Singh


The lonely walk with an ache in their step.
They walk soundlessly. Fearful
of having their nightmares retold to them.
November’s fingers edge up my neck as I pad along noiselessly –
a solitary shadow against the ebony sky.


Suddenly I stop. You stand transfixed in your tracks –
a fox as lonely as me.
Your orange fur bleeds colour into the night. Your ears twitch –
friend or foe? They seem to question.
Your nose, pointed and whiskered, is moist with anticipation.
I smile at your black feet – black –
the colour of stealth.   


We stand awhile, watching our loneliness
mirrored in each other’s stance. We linger
in the uncertain warmth of our unexpected rendezvous
And for a moment,
 we, strangers on this solitary night,
are not so lonely.


The moment swells and bursts.
I watch as you slip away quietly into your darkness
And I into mine. 

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Chandni Singh is an environmentalist. She is currently doing her PhD in rural livelihoods in the UK. She likes taking long walks and writing in her journal and has published her work in Reading Hour, The Rusty Nail, Red River Review, The Taj Mahal Review, Coldnoon and others. She writes regularly for Helter Skelter and on her personal blog