When the sky turns hues of gray and silver,
When the ground is shrouded, in pale powder,
A vixen retreats, like a flame across a burning page,
Into her burrow, where the cold light won’t shine.
She spent months prepping, digging, and gathering,
With bramble and stones for reinforcement,
With soft grass and moss to cushion the ground.
Through stormy days, and dangerous nights,
Deep in the burrow, the fox family roosts.
The vixen continues, maintaining her den,
Waiting until two foxes becomes four,
Waiting for a pup’s cries to break the silence.
Their fur like peach-fuzz, their bodies so fragile,
They’re more precious than any treasure to behold.
This vixen, she’ll do anything to protect them,
Warm is the burrow, in defiance of raging winter.
Warm is the vixen’s heart, with maternal love.
However, the season is merciless and cruel,
Mother Nature is apathetic, Father Time a sadist.
The pups are slowly growing quiet and tense,
Weak is the first pup, whose cries are so quiet.
Weak is the second pup, who can hardly move.
Everything she can, and the vixen still does more,
The den, she’ll make it even softer and warmer,
Their bellies will be full, their bodies cleaned,
Whatever it takes to save the precious ones,
Whatever it takes to keep her family safe.
Yet the forces are beyond her paws and jaws.
There’s nothing she can do, but lay with them,
Until these two frail pups cry their last cry.
Weeping, the vixen screams with grief,
Weeping, her fox mate bellows a cry of agony.
The den is silent now, nothing to hear, but,
The roar of a blizzard’s cruel wind, outside,
The bodies are gone, but their scent lingers.
Woe to the fox family, broken by the season,
Woe to the crestfallen vixen, haunted by remorse.
Days fly by, and where the vixen should have
Been able to watch her pups grow and learn,
Now she can only reflect upon her failures.
Was her den not good, not safe enough?
Was her milk not rich enough to nourish?
However, the fox curls around his grieving mate.
He chirps to her, a song of comfort and warmth,
The vixen shakes and weeps, but the song is heard.
Wistful, it weaves mourning and hope as one.
Wistful, but the vixen’s heart is slowly healing.
The storm rages outside, but like entwined flames,
The foxes will find solace, their song will be heard,
In the burrow, through winter’s end and beyond,
Where the cries of their pups once sounded strong.
Where the bodies are gone, but memories live on.
Points:
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Canary word: Present
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125,021 Literary Works • 672,739 Reviews
Hello there 😊
Like the line about the vixen being like a flame. It’s a nice imagine and it can also be seen literally since vixens do have the orange colour.
Aww I find the entire thing with the preparation for the puppies so heartwarming to read. And the babies! So adorable!
And then it all goes wrong ☹
I also really like the last line for the rhyme and for the finality of it all. Nature is cruel :/
This is a really nice poem!
It's just.. how nature is sometimes - We don't experience it as much as humans, but it still exists for us too. Someone is born, and doesn't live long, with no fault of the parents, or the doctors. It's tragic, but that's life.
I really love this line: Mother Nature is apathetic, Father Time a sadist.
It's just, really true - Time is a slow killer (literally)
Thank you! Glad you liked this one!
This is a really nice poem!
It's just.. how nature is sometimes - We don't experience it as much as humans, but it still exists for us too. Someone is born, and doesn't live long, with no fault of the parents, or the doctors. It's tragic, but that's life.
I really love this line: Mother Nature is apathetic, Father Time a sadist.
It's just, really true - Time is a slow killer (literally)
Okay, um… so first off, I just wanna say — wow. This poem really surprised me! Like, for a first piece, it’s really good. You’ve got such vivid imagery — the way you describe the vixen retreating "like a flame across a burning page" actually gave me chills. That’s such a bananas-good line (yes, I said bananas because I have to 😅).
It honestly reads like something someone much more experienced would write. The emotion builds so naturally — from the gentle, nurturing love of the vixen to the heartbreak when the pups die — and that’s hard to do without sounding overdramatic, but you kept it just right. The grief feels real but quiet, which somehow makes it hit harder.
If I had to give a tiny bit of hesitant feedback (and I say this nervously because it’s already beautiful), maybe you could tighten a few lines near the middle — the part where she’s trying to save the pups repeats a few ideas, like keeping them warm and safe. I think trimming that just a little would make the heartbreak that follows even sharper.
But really… this is such a heartfelt, emotional piece. It feels like it was written by someone who felt every word. I can tell there’s genuine care in how you crafted it, and that’s something no technical training can replace. Keep writing, seriously — this poem already shows you’ve got something special.
Hey, thanks a lot for this review, I really appreciate it! I am newer to poetry writing, so the feedback does help, haha.