The hedgehog
RA, 1981
RA, 1981
The hedgehog in the Autumn
Rolls into a ball
But when he pokes his head out
He hears the dead leaves fall
He sleeps all winter
In his silence rolled
And when he wakes
It's Spring and he is old.
From
I think the poem was written earlier. Much earlier, as a warning to one of my friends. Or to me maybe.