I know all about
the fierceness of badgers:
how a border terrier
will follow a fox
down the darkest hole –
but should he disturb
a badger down there,
he will bear the marks,
and still win prizes
at dog shows
as if half his muzzle
had not been ripped off;
and this as a tribute
to the fierceness of badgers.
Secretive, nocturnal,
masked like thieves,
you only ever see them
at night or
safely dead
by the side of the road.
But today on a hill track
I came across one.
Wary, I stopped –
then inched closer
to take a snap
with my mobile;
still closer, and spoke to him
as you do to dogs.
He hissed.
I jumped back
and watched him
retreat into bushes.
He was young
and must have been lost
and afraid
as we all are.
And so we walk through life:
timid, gingerly, circumspect,
because we know all about
the risk of high places,
the danger of draughts
from an open door –
and the fierceness of badgers.
whypoetry 
March 30th, 2013 at 2:01 pm
“and afraid as we all are”!