Posted in poetry

Caveat Armadillo

An armadillo, like a brass band,
Can be the right thing
In the wrong place.
Your basic armadillo
Burrows, looking for
Food or building a crib.
Burrowing’s not a sin,
Or we’d all be due for whipping,
But it’s best not to burrow
Amongst perennials,
Which imply gardeners,
Who are like to
Take offense
At misplaced burrowing,
Especially when it’s serial,
And buy a trap or make a call
That sets in train an exile —
Or worse.


I’ve retired after a career teaching law. I divide my time now between Athens, Georgia, in the States and the south coast of Ireland.