The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found  
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,  
Killed. It had been in the long grass.
 
I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.  
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world  
Unmendably. Burial was no help:
 
Next morning I got up and it did not.
The first day after a death, the new absence  
Is always the same; we should be careful
 
Of each other, we should be kind  
While there is still time.

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Eddy Corrigan
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