BROCK
For Kathy on her birthday
I snuffle under your window in the night
Trusting your steady gaze and bedroom lamp
As I trust the Moon’s silvering
On my grizzled brow,
My shining snout.
I sense your loving spirit
Fostering me and mine,
As mid-rootle, I freeze to foil
Culls, baiters, diggers,
Or when I cross the ways unhurt
Where petrol predators stalk with speed.
To you, silently overwhelmed to see me,
I bring a badger’s blessing
From cubs curled in secret setts of tomorrow,
From slopes where earthworms wriggle to the feast,
From subterranean maze of passages
From chambers where we drowse,
Furry sleepers under heedless feet.
You we hold heart-deep, as you hold us dear,
Lover of brocks,
Of Britain’s most ancient burrowers
Beneath thin places we tunnel yet more thin.
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