Tipping the Scale

I saw a baby fox today; It looked like it had lost its way. Its mom was nowhere to be seen; I felt like I should intervene. Its tail was long; its fur was red. Its skinny frame looked underfed. It paced a bit right near the road, Perhaps in search of its abode. We drove away and left it there. It wasn’t that we didn’t care; But every creature that’s alive Must learn the know-how to survive. There’s a reason that each breath Can tip the scale towards life or death. Nature pulls the strings, not I, Deciding who will live or die. I hope that balance falls in favor Of that fox, for I would savor That our lack of enterprise Did not result in its demise.