Even The Badgers Found It Strange

by Ben Pickard   Feb 5, 2018


The crunch of frost gave way beneath my feet
As the morning sun fought off the stubborn mist.
How odd! to see the pregnant fields and wheat
Transformed so soon and by this icy twist.

September had not yet dawned but that
Could not quite warm my breath or rosy cheeks -
The land about was still quite full and fat...
Did that not make this amble cruel and bleak?

I came, then, to the river's friendly bend,
Where at this time of year it trickles so.
But hark! the icy queen would even this suspend:
No current or no sound to prove the flow.

A 'tick' then came to me upon the still
And hurled me back to life from where I stood;
Almost noon and yet this casual chill
Did still abound throughout the open fields and woods.

And by and by, I made my way toward my house,
Accepting that and all I couldn't change;
For not a pheasant, badger, squirrel, hare or mouse
Could help but find this eerie morning cold and strange.

--

Ben Pickard

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Latest Comments

  • 2 months ago

    by Shoreditchpoet Dennis

    Lovely Ben. Pastoral, echoes of Frost & Yeats - but in a pastoral poem that’s always going to happen I guess. Still, you have your own style. Looking forward to reading more ????.
    Dennis

  • 2 months ago

    by Gracy Judith

    I love the imagery in these lines. Beautifully penned. A well-deserved win!

  • 4 months ago

    by cassie hughes

    Wow! Another well deserved win. You are as talented and clever with words as I remembered. So glad that I have finally found my way back here.

  • 4 months ago

    by mistake

    I felt almost stuck in reading this, similar to the way a moist finger will stick to cold things. I mean in pretty much the exact same way. Immersed me, thank you.

  • 5 months ago

    by Fredy RoMa0u Sanchez

    Ben! Great piece dude

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