Analysis of The Marshfield Fox

Across the dew covered sedge
We squeaked our way to a form-
A reddish form- perceived beyond
The growth of nearby rushes.

Where siskins sang from various
Bushes at the bottom of a brae
As we traversed a frog-spawned
Surface.

We were but kids as free as the clouds
Above...the Marshfield then was an Eden
For us but sometimes I think that after our
Demise it will be a heavenly abode or at
Least our ghosts will traverse its acres.

However, our interest, then, was a dead fox
Shot overnight by someone who removed
Its tongue in pursuit of cash, a young fox-
A vixen, filling me with sadness which
Brought me to tears...an experience
Still vivid across the passage of
Seventy plus years.