The wind in the trees, fear in the breeze

Leaves stir like a monster

Waiting for prey in the night

Pregnant heavy air of an incoming storm

Her ever watchful eyes sweep

Across the moonlit grass and shadows

As if waiting for terrors real or imagined

All the while wondering how

Her strength was sapped

And she bent, cowed into fear

Of the known, the unknown,

The violence that lingers on

The corners of each night like fog

After days of rain 

  © 2007 C.  Nichols