A.FOX LOOKING
AT A FOX
A boy at a half-door in Hack-
ballscross, a fox thought begins
to form a mile awaty from the town-
land of Mucker. Patrick Kavanaghs
birthplace, poetry is in the air.
A glowing red dawn one he has never
saw before growing up in Belfast
and London. Something skulks in
the red dawn ditch. A fox hunkers up
to catch the little boys eye just like
the thought fox caught Ted Hughes
imagination it skulked his realism.
A moment went by, timeless they
watched each other. Years went by
the boy couldn't fathom, happening.
He enrolled in Dundalk tech, hated
school is thrown into a dance class.
When his form teacher read extracts
fromJulius Caesar or Guillevers travels
he fell l into a trance transformed to
war-torn streets and his fathers gun-
running across the border that cottage
for him was freedom winds it took all his
Belfast hatred away encaptured en-
raptured for his ignorant father war.
The form teacher spoke to his parents
wanted him to stay on at school but
the boy ran away from home couldn't
wait to get away from his bigot father.
he walked out at the news of the narrow-
water bombing, sons and brothers killed
and he yelled like a world cup goal,
He walked away in disgust, I can't stand
it anymore- more, Age sixteen he beat
his hardman father and ran to his aunts
in London where he got into trouble
arrested and deported back.
this time he went to live in Dublin, never
again did he live with his father. He had
three sons went to the poet's house Lan-
caster university became a creative
writing tutor,
A publised writer with eight collections
of poetry. Can you put your life down to
a moment, a fox looking at a fox?
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