There is a lull in the dark night
white eyes stare down -
voyeurs tune in from another world.
There is this little chirp of the cricket
a low buzzing TV in the ear.
A snap of twig is heard
made from rubber paw
of a white masked badger.
Raiders tumble out of bins
sniff and snort rummaging
around the green lawns of the sleeping.
When the round, yellow sun crawls up
the crunching of cornflakes commences,
traffic weaves endlessly on
as the badger curls up in
deep den and dreams of finding its