A fox’s frosted coat sparkled starlight
on a snowbound single track mountain road.
I crunched to a halt. ‘The fuck’re ye doing
on the road?’  The universe floated
in her eyes. ‘Do ye want a wee sweetie?’
‘Hungry,’ she said, by a bow of her head.
Dropping it on snow a foot from the car,
I swapped a fox a polo mint for trust.
 
She looked at me. The mint. Me. Licked. Blinked. Picked
and backed into pine behind fogs of breath.
In dusts of snow five bright fox cubs appeared.
I scattered a packet of minty manna.
I dropped six midnight kebabs in heather
under six twin galaxies peering with life.