Spirit of the suburbs

A world discarded when daylight drops

 

Lines its edges for little feet

 

to patter past the locked-up lawns

 

Guarded by the ribs of gates,

 

till down a bare-bone barricade

 

a Broken brick lets him slip

 

and in he comes to find a dish...

 

(a mosaic tribute filled to drink,,,)

 

While in the porch light blushing pink,

 

a second offer piles a plate,

 

And, as in some kind spirit's dream

 

The hedgehog leaves the dish all clean.

Done