On the road that never slept
And never stopped
Trespassing through the ancient ways
The badger took his last breath.
And when the sun appeared
It was a thin cold gauze
Not nearly strong enough
To warm his back
Let alone
Stir a life's blood,
As if it accepted
His death
Was inevitable.
- Author: Christopher Elwell ( Offline)
- Published: November 21st, 2017 11:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.