Sunday, September 23, 2018

The Backyard Battlefield



A brilliant tactician,
She seeks the high ground
From which to survey
The battlefield.

Her keen eye glances skyward
To the branches
Which overhang
The lush terrain.

Nostrils slightly flared
A scent draws her
To look slightly
To her left

And she quietly leaves
Her lofty perch on the planter
To enter into a
Stalking crouch.

Movement catches her eye
And she freezes,
Awaiting the coming
Inattention of her prey

Which is focused on finding
An acorn, or
A pecan hiding
In the grass.

The stalk continues
With laser-like intensity,
Always keeping
The tree between

Her line of approach and
The furtive prey
Which occasionally
Sits up to wave

Its bushy tail as if taunting,
Or perhaps,
Warning her that
It is aware of her

Approach across the yard.
The strike comes
Like lightening
And the furry target

Scrambles for the rough bark
That leads it up
And out of reach
Of snapping teeth.

From a branch high above
The chattered scolding
Sounds a challenge
For another day.

No comments:

Google