Sunday, 1 November 2020

Hedgehog

Walking on the stars 
of dew reflecting sky,
steps of spring offguard
led by second sight.

A weight of native senses
shrunken to the key,
scents of essence lend
to forward feel by feel.

Sleeping through the days
of skies deprived of stars,
alive to come what may,
evolved to not see far.