The speaker's feeling that "something more near" lurks beneath his window outside, closer than the night's absent stars, suggests that inspiration need not be lofty; it can be right in front of us, waiting for us take notice. Just before the "sudden sharp hot stink of fox" enters "the dark hole" of the speaker's head, the speaker remarks that the fox is merely "Coming about its own business." There is nothing particularly special about this fox, besides the fact that it was in the right place at the right time, and the speaker happened to pay attention to him.