The Bare Copse & The Used Latrine…
There was no breeze. Silent sheep grazed nearby
And occasional birdsong permeated
The copse, its foliage and cover stripped bare
By the cruel gales of the fall
And winter’s frosts, crisp and mean.
Dead, dun leaves huddled across the barren scene
But no actual movement caught the eye,
Like in an eerie no man’s land, ill fated.
To breathe, or even move, I didn’t dare,
As I tarried between two trees, quite tall
And skeletal, surveying the woodland serene,
Where badgers had filled their outside latrine…
Pete Ray
11th February 2023
Food was strewn for the badgers but none appeared, as the day turned to dusk.
The latrine however, needed a good flushing…
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