BADGER (meles meles)

BADGER (meles meles)

By Peter Woodgate

Safe in my Sett

I await the passing

of the day’s discordant light.

The revealing darkness

beckons  me,

has my nostrils flaring.

Outside I hear the wild beast’s cry,

fierce and menacing,

hurled down from abstruse forms.

They know not the secrets of the forest,

but sway clumsily

within their self inflicted blindness.

They do not see the beauty

of a moonlit forest floor,

nor hear the swiftness

of the great owl’s powerful wings.

They do not smell the cool moist fungi

that thrust their eager heads

above the composted carpet,

or taste the scented breezes

that carry all knowledge of the world.

They do not feel

the gentle touch

of bough and bracken.

Is it because I sense these things

that the beasts persecute me?

Will they take my foraging grounds

leaving me a trespasser?

Will I survive

to be placed in a savage pit

fighting with bated breath?

ought I stay

a little longer in my Sett?

Even now I hear the earth collapse,

shutting off access

to the outside world.

Final darkness beckons now

as I turn to face

the burning gas.

Copyright Peter Woodgate