Badger

• Larissa Rodrigues
• Poetry
• 2004

Moonlight shines on dark old eyes,
On a creature ancient, a creature wise.
A large body, black and white,
Moving through the moonlit night,
A rustle in the tall old trees,
You could be pardoned for thinking it was the breeze;
A sharp crack,
The breaking of a bone,
And maybe one could hear,
A dying creature's groan.
Food for the badger,
Prowling through the night,
Food for the badger,
With immense, yet silent might.