Piglets At Moonlight
Corner of a field,
In the sodden, muddy turf,
The moonlight plays the backs,
Of the piglets in their mirth.
The grunts, squeals and glee,
In this momentary light,
Causes midnight still to stir,
Without fear of pending plight.
Dusty snouts and dirty trotters,
Gambolling in the green,
Highlights in the shadows,
Where the pigs at night were seen.
ęPhilip Holden



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