A FOX TRUSTING PEOPLE <br /> <br />I <br /> <br />Foxes stared obliviously before they ran <br />The sun craving indulgence let them <br />Of all the piece they were but charming fellows <br />Falling into place by going and coming <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />If women were, as they say, as foxes <br />And have vixens they would be worth following <br />There will be another along surely <br />Even in this spinning time and space <br /> <br />III <br /> <br />Oh, trust me, perhaps not they say <br />In the wide, wild black infinity <br />Who is god they menacingly ask? <br />As they rob to seek their poor riches <br /> <br />IV <br /> <br />You can’t trust them they say to us <br />With that wide, wild black indifference <br />Yet for the asking they have then gone <br />So, we don’t bother them <br /> <br />London. Summer 1977
