Huntress

Death stalks the neighborhood,
Slinks through the grasses
Tall in my backyard,
Talons out, teeth a-gleam,
Tail lashing in anticipation.

I catch a whiff of musk,
A flicker of yellow-green eye,
And then she fades out.
The hairs on my forearm rise and tingle.
Death is very close.

© Caroline

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