City of Foxes

by davidchrzanowskipoetry

Our back garden: green and yellow farmer’s fields.
Daffodils, rape seed, and hay bales lined up on hillsides
opposing the main road that split housing estates from nature.

Yet, I never saw a fox.
Not until I moved to a city –
20 years into my life.

That town never felt like my true home.
So, like the fox, I moved out to find a food source,
to expel hometown torment,  a love affair of new experiences,

A mixed land to conquer, or dissolve into.
Leicester, my new found playground.
Ironically home to a football club nicknamed the Foxes.

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