Rookie - 380 Points (01/01/1966 / BIRMINGHAM)


As the dusk of a still
And a silent eve,
Descends to the arms
Of the waiting night.

A rustle does sound
Through the lying leaves,
And the brittle twigs
Of the dying wood.

The cautious eyes
And a wary stare,
Emerge from the dark
Of the hidden sett.

As the badger roams
In the quest for food,
Through the bones
Of the tracks he wore.

Andrew Blakemore

Topic(s) of this poem: wildlife

Form: Free Verse

Comments about Badger by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

  • Akhtar Jawad (4/7/2018 8:53:00 PM)

    Hunger the instinct makes all of us roaming. A beautiful poem. (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Abdulrazak Aralimatti (10/13/2015 12:27:00 PM)

    Verily, a lovely poem depicting the evening and the badger
    Loved reading it

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 2 comments »

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 6, 2015

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