a hedgehog digs down,
away from the wailing blight
of amplified multitudes

of lawnmowers and weed-
whackers, cutters of blades, root-
hackers and hoes of rows.

the damp earth dampens
all those. she wrinkles her nose,
raises reluctant eyelids.

a quiet guest
brings cookies, cozy with bitter
tea and conversation.

she eats the nuts,
leaves crumbs for ants,
an offering of grubs.

the world above
is too superficial, too high-
and-wired to fathom.

not much room, in the bright-
fraught world, for views
of under-ground.

close in her den, but not
too close, the good amount
of room for tidbitting.

cats' claws are sharper
always, in the ever-
wetter year.

the peanuts planted
in Pak Su’s field are swelling
bellies, growing round.

nibblers of words
become the reaping and
the kettle-ripening.

lower quills draw deep
as dirt-sighted sensitive,
burrows inky in-habiting.

//

🌒