I Sleep under a Canvass
I sleep under a canvass
by a burrow at night
The fire slims to cinders
in the drips of moonlight
I hear the wild life chatting
creaking breeze through dark trees
My heads on a chill of a pillow
in intermittent wakes, dreams leave
Get up, flop outside,
foxes and badgers, snout and roam
A small hole in the hurt ground
maybe moles make a home
I hear rooks, ugly abrupt voices
sweet tones of a hooting owl
I’m alone near the groan of
a slow shadow of a hoove ing cow
Not a souls foot has trodden nearby,
as daylight squeezes Nights sky
Damp weeps over my body, and shivers the warmth in my mind
I relight the fire, see sheep,
through the barbed wire, As I spark
Lonely green moss, pretty’s a gaunt wall
As I’m up with the lark
