Sonnet CCCXXXVIII

Precariously dangling from a tree,

He mutely eyes the android enemy.

He eyes his goal with puma-like furore,

Then dives through air towards the earthen floor.

Lest others steal his hard-earned, sylvan prize,

His ready senses swiftly scrutinize.

Suspecting something is indeed amiss,

He darts from sight into the shade’s abyss.

Emerging once his humble meal is done,

He breaks into a fleeting little run.

He scampers up the half-dressed, wooden bones

And rests upon the grey limb of his home.

And leafy tears obscure the world below:

The oaks lament their stolen embryos.