At our cabin, we discovered a single large talon print stamped over little snipe prints in the muddy road that wasn't there the night before. And we heard the owls in the night, calling out there queries like the coyotes at the moon.
A great talon print, in the mud
obscures the peck, peck, peck of snipe feet.
A stray feather on the grass
adds evidence to the crime
where circumstance is meet.
A sonorous cry among the treetops
gives warning to the wary.
Whoo, whoo, whoo!
The mid-night raptors biding time
'til strike is necessary.
A tiny rustle pricks feathered ears,
a swiveled head blinks baleful eyes.
A pounding of the wings awind;
a scurry in the frosty rime;
another tiny rodent dies.