The Night Observer

The Night Observer

Quiet feathers fluff up against the night.
Unprotected prey waits upon Fortune’s call.
A curious cat could end it here;
A final uneven fight.
Winter’s cruel forging of frost
Stiffens the limbs of the left and lost.
Behind their bricks the humans scarcely stir.

A dead umbellifer sentinel scores the mist,
A strident monument of last summer’s glory.
On the tangled trails of broken blackberry
A brown mouse turns and twists.                                                  
Slight wing rush, prequel to timely end,
Whispers an announcement that death will descend;
A winged skewer to procure a nocturnal cherry.

Cloud fingers linger to stroke an aloof moon.
An intensity of action clothed in a mask of quietude
Animates the unclean, unseen beneath.
She who was asleep at noon
Rips a reeling rodent in a moment Insensate.
Then all must give fealty to stillness and wait;
Limbs decelerating in fear of the tearing of teeth.

I am here; safe, glass cradled from this outside.
A watcher, one of a  species with faith in immunity;
Displaced from danger, drained of passion.
I need nowhere to hide.
Nature’s garden amphitheatre of amusement
Stages daily death, lives spent.
Am I but an expression of the latest genetic fashion?