fox roam street for days

In the quiet hush of dawn’s first light,
A fox begins its silent flight,
Through cobbled streets and alleyways,
It roams alone, through endless days.

With russet coat and watchful eyes,
It moves beneath the waking skies,
Past shadowed corners, neon gleam,
A shadow weaving through a dream.

No human voice, no hurried feet,
Just paws on pavement, soft and discreet,
It sniffs at scents of city’s breath,
A wanderer, alive in stealth.

Through bustling markets, empty parks,
It leaves behind familiar marks,
A fleeting ghost in urban sprawl,
A wild heart in concrete’s thrall.

For days it journeys, free and bold,
A story silent, yet untold,
A symbol of the wilderness,
That lingers in our city’s mess.

And as the sun begins to fade,
The fox retreats, its voyage made,
Into the shadows, out of sight,
A fleeting soul of day and night.