Thursday, 26 July 2007

(I haven’t written any poetry for donkeys’ years, and I thought what I had written was lost. So I’m indebted to Alex Foster for digging deep in a pre-WWW place for some stuff I wrote around 1991. Of course, it may have been well-left where it was – what do you think?)

Badger (Bolt Tail, Devon)

There’s no-one here tonight but me; the sun’s gone down;
The lights are coming on around the cove.
Across the bay. and all along the coast
To where the sky is stained with Plymouth’s glow
Long cliffs are coalescing with the dusk.
Beneath my feet the rocks slide steeply, down
Past haunts of guillemots and razorbills
And tufts of sea-pink clinging to the land.
The last of land; Out there, past Eddystone’s
Winking light, lies half an empty globe
Of empty ocean. Above, a scattering
Of stars; a universe to hold the eye
Transfixed. I’m standing here so small against
The dark, and drawn both outwards and back home.
Although my heart would stay, I wrench myself
Around, and turn. The wind sings in the grass.
But hush! Another sound! Not wind, but what?
I freeze; a rustle in the greenery;
A shape – what cat’s abroad at such an hour?
In such a place? But not a cat: There’s two
Broad stripes that run along a slender snout.
Downwind, I’m still. A privilege to see
This secret creature poke and snuffle round
Amongst the foliage. She’s stopped. And now
She looks, and for an endless brevity
Her eyes meet mine. Two veiled lives have reached
An understanding underneath the stars;
A harmony. Then in a flash she’s gone.


One Response to “Badger”

  1. Ralphie Says:

    I think it’s magical, Rosie. You’ve got some once-in-a-lifetime imagery there.

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