Night-time serves up a slender slice of moon,
proposes a toast of evening dew
and watches as giddy shadows stagger before they fall.
Nocturnal animals begin to stir – the night is theirs.
Tempted by the dark, young mice come out of hiding
thinking “surely that ole cat won’t find us here”.
The sound of silence is masked
by an endless chirping of crickets,
but their white noise does nothing
to lessen the chill of the coyote as he howls.
A pesky raccoon clanks a rusty bucket
when he can’t resist meddling where he doesn’t belong.
New moon or full moon or no moon at all;
inhabitants of the darkness, predator or prey,
adapt to whatever light they have.
Poised on his perch, with a hoot every now and then,
an owl waits patiently for the moon to grow.
Once it does, the mice who survived the cat in the dark
will huddle together in fear,
for they’ve seen the terror of a hungry owl
who hunts by the light of the moon.