Stalkers.

Progressive curtains of dark fall onto coppice and field
Deepening shades of gloom increase into stillness of night
Feelings acquire an edge not there in day
Acrobatic senses wing their way on a breeze
The hearing leaps great distances to light upon a whisper
The eye spy's movement in impenetrable dark
The sure silent owl, no longer comic, is felt more than seen
Riding a breeze with bodkin claws at ready
The heightened mind feels movement other senses miss
And I know that the field mouse stills
The vole crouches
The dove stifles a coo
This is no silly blinking clown
But death hungry and reaching
To not respond is to lose the right
Creatures of night whisper and shift
As a momentary scream says the owl is down
Now the stoat equally silent, just as deadly
Who's innocent eye belies cold heart
Seeks to bloody his fur with anothers life
The playful rolling otter halts his game
Calling his mate to follow
As they too seek life on which to chew
The trout moves in on the fly