It’s all of rhythm under stars,
as if the music of the spheres,
sound some slow beat, more silent glide,
the mouse’s heartbeat always fast.
Wings slice through darkness, cutting night,
tight timing, swoop and talons taut,
slight final wafting, feather light
as whiskers creep, black tuft to green,
watched golden eye through pupil pool.
Unsuspecting prey knows claw,
precision strike, beak aerial,
the quick and dead in final feat.
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales, UK, from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces curated and published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, including Poetry Potion. He has, like so many, been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. His blog is at https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com