Night Cry of the Hunter


Darkness consumes what's left of daylight,
the sun escapes behind the horizon.
Day creatures capture their sleep,
the night shift clocks in to fill the void.
Eons of adaptation claim their rightful place,
perched on the rooftops of the forest canopy.
Eyes vacuum up tiny particles of light,
night vision masters of the unseen.

Rustling in the underbrush, scurrying about,
hunger trumps fear of becoming a dark hour feast.
All creatures searching, searching, searching,
searching to ease the hunger pains of emptiness.
Wings outstretched, powerful legs catapult to flight,
feathered arms cutting the evening air.
High pitched screams penetrate ears of the prey,
frozen in amber, fossilized in fear.

Squeak, shriek, squeal, and squelch.
Eyes telescope, trapping the target with talons.
Razor like instruments gouge deeply,
fur flying, tendons tearing, sinew stripped.
Squeak, shriek, squeal, and squelch.
Lying lifeless in the grasp of death.
Disappearing into the ebony of the evening,
with a fading night cry of the hunter.

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