Hey, Golden Fox!
Where have you been?
Alone, in darkness – you don’t seem.
Your fur is wet, but smells so good,
Of sand, of salty water and of wood.
The Little Prince once spoke to you:
“If I domesticate you, what you’d do?”
Words hold a risk to be misunderstood,
The Prince is spoiled, so quiet stood.
You have a friend and that’s the moon,
You share no words, but share a tune.
Your soul is wild, you are not tame.
Your spirit’s free, which I acclaim.