As moonlight filters through the leaves
The gnats flit in the ghostly glow
Pursued by aerobatic bats
Then something scurries down below

A screech owl hoots and takes to wing
Preened feathers frame a pointed beak
It plunges in the gloom to snatch
A mouse. A crunch, a final squeak

Too dark to see the spider’s web
The gipsy moth that fluttered in
Its wings now snagged in sticky gum
Awaits the final twirl and spin

Too late to save a bluebottle
From green jaws closing with a gulp
On, down a toad’s oesophagus
The flimsy body crushed to pulp

The Ｍoon looks on with stony face
On predator and victim too
Aloof to Night’s grim pantomime
Immune to all tu-whit tu-whoo


© Oliver Wright

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