I am the last taxidermist poet in Wakefield

I am the last taxidermist poet in Wakefield

 

I ache for the feel of

Skin and fur

And the smell of viscera.

 

I have known

Cats and dogs and

Rats and frogs.

My sighs tell touching tales of rabbits, shout of the matted hair of hares,

And whisper softly of the lonely death of deer.

 

I am the last taxidermist poet in Wakefield.

 

Alone.

My gruff Yorkishire vowels howl of the bowels of owls.

 

Alone.

I walk the moorland hill and revel in the thrill of roadkill.

 

I am the last taxidermist poet in Wakefield.

And this is my song.

- Russell J Turner