Hedgehog
On a damp purple night,
Just past the Bank of England public house,
Near home where memories have faded,
I saunter through the crossroad,
And see a hedgehog ambling,
In the middle of the dead quiet road.
I approach and bend low—
Little protruding brown eyes,
And your cute little snout,
Curious, draws from me a soft,
“Good evening. Hello.”
But you curl into a ball,
Your spines prick my palm,
A quiet signal: GO.
I understand your caution—
Pushed toward extinction by
Urban sprawl, intensive farming,
And endless roads for vehicles,
Your habitat fragmented,
Declared near threatened
Through man’s twisted tongue—
Why would you trust me?
You’re probably scouting
A new home for yourself,
Or sniffing out a mate.
So, I’ll leave you alone,
And pray that one day,
My great-grandchildren
Will touch your kind,
Beneath hopeful
And gentler skies.
Read Another Poem by Skendong – Surviving Hurricane Milton: A Poem on Climate Denial