The trees bending towards each other, whispering,
The bird in the trees sat on the branches they cling.
A path bending through the trees, covered in shadow,
A tree leaning over blocking the way with a bough.
A swift movement, a fox streaking across the path,
The darkness closing in on the trees, spreading its wrath.
A tree bends in the wind and a branch snaps from its base,
Spreading across the whole path, right between a fox chase.
A hooting of an owl echoing through the dark night,
In answer to the call a screech owl launches into flight.
A fury of beating wings, screeches and scattering of mice,
A nose dive, the hunt is on, a downward pick up done twice.
The clouds drift over the full moon, a screech of blind panic,
An owl loosing its meal, the cry spreading out, becoming gigantic,
A few mice about to have a chance to run and live on for a while,
Running into the trees getting away their faces covered with a smile.
