In my bed.
My head
Filled with warm fuzzy thought.
Falling
Into the arms of sleep,
My attention is suddenly caught
By the bark
Of the fox calling
In the dark.

He is my old enemy and friend
And will be with me at the end.
One can pretend
Otherwise
And gaze in mock surprise
When his final bark is heard.
But, in the end
It is that old fox, death, who will have the last word.