In the frost crisp they prowl
the growlers and scavengers
for leavings not frozen
though not worth the hot-blood mouthfuls
quivering deep in the frozen
holed in the dark.
Fox digs but dainty cat pads
are not diggers
and the cold bites through fancy fur.
Fox digs and the blood scent spills
twitching cat whiskers with longing
but even hard bread and cheese rind
are better than death.