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In the grey-fog dawn, dank and greasy,
A jackdaw cried;
A nut-snacking squirrel, anxiously busy,
Dashed to the bushes, scorned by a cold-eyed
Michaelmas daisy.
Stewed
by the mild sun a roadkill fox
Is torn by a crow; A mid-day spider, mending the shocks
To its web, seizes a moth, silly-slow,
In the rusting hollyhocks.
Equinox
night charcoals the woods,
Erasing the rooksIn their elm top roosts. Woodfloor foods
Hunt and are hunted in the silent nooks
Under bindweed roods.
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© September 2014