On a shallow trail,
On a shadowed hill,
A fox came along,
Weeping and shrill.
His steps felt bedraggled
To my coyote paws.
I asked him the problem.
His legs shook like straw.

On a shadowy trail,
On a moon-dark hill,
The fox started keening,
Rapid and shrill.
His lips were a'peeling
Away from his teeth,
His eyes had a look
As if under siege.

“The WickedyWoo!”
Was moaned at me,
The fox nearly fainted
With a fear I could see.
“The WickedyWoo?”
I politely asked.
“What, my dear fox,
In the world is that?”

The fox closed his eyes,
And slumped on a tree.
“It has the cruel form
Of a house kitty,
But, pale, like a ghost
With eyeballs enthralled,
And a kink in its tail
Which hangs like a ball.”

"Which hangs like a ball?”
I just had to ask.
“What, my dear fox,
Is so scary ‘bout that?”
“The WickedyWoo,
With its orangey points,
Has a lanky physique,
Swift and adroit.”

"Its eyes sparked and flashed,
Its lips snubbed a grin,
Its hindquarters wiggled,
With a dive, it was in!
Its head caught my chin
And I heard doves sing,
Next thing I knew,
My ears were a'ring.”

“I was seeing stars,
And double Woos, too,
As they leaped at me,
There was nothing to do.
I let out a yowl,
As its ball-tail hit,
It felt like my leg,
Now, didn’t quite fit.”

“I fell with a thud,
And a groan of pain,
My leg felt all numb,
So did my brain.
I twisted around,
It couldn’t be found!
‘Til I heard a faint ‘snick’,
And I plastered the ground.”

"Not a moment too soon,
Its claws missed my snout,
Not a whisker to spare,
I had to get out!
I leapt in the air
And puffed up my fur,
Trying to scare
A ball-tailed blur.”

"Its meow was freaky,
Like a skittering wren,
My hackles were rising,
I knew what that meant.
I had one last chance,
So I fell to my back,
Kicking my legs,
Like a rube or a hack.”

“It startled, a bit,
Lost its paw-hold and slipped!
That’s all that it took,
I knew I was whipped,
I sprang to my feet
And hightailed it quick,
Before it could tell
Which way that I took.”

"My heart was a'thump,
I was gasping out snot,
hearing its crashes...
It was me it sought!
It was yowling with rage,
Then these words rang through.
“I’m WickedyWoo,
And I’ll remember you!”

“I’ve been running for miles,
I can’t seem to quit,
As soon as I slow,
My brain has a fit.
I’m leaving this place,
And I’m not coming back,
Mr. WickedyWoo
Can kiss my ass!”

Came a roar of outrage,
And the poor fox froze,
His face became crazed,
His tail touched his toes.
With a rush of brief wind,
He was gone, just like that,
Not looking back
To see me laugh.

On a shallow trail,
On a shadowed hill,
Woo came along,
Looking pleased with himself.
His fur was awry
With dirt on his nose,
His eyes were a gleam
As he struck up a pose.

“I’m WickedyWoo!”
He roared to the night.
“If you cross my path
You will have to fight.
But, if you walk with me,
And you give me a hug,
You become my friend,
And, you can call me Bug.”

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Photograph by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 5/10/05