The hare hops over the hedge and kisses the fiery fox
The red who roams the streets thereupon shakes his head
awestruck
Only to see his aggressor dissappear on the far end of the
heath
A street lamp flickers -on off off on on off- and dies
Leaving the carmine carnivore quite alone in the dark
To pursue hasn't any sense
Still, to feel those lips again...
