Night prowlers got big eyes,
ears that turn like dishes
catching on some radio sign –
distress or misstep on a twig.
I woke to the garbled rage
of cats in a thrash
over borders or a breached fence –
vicious – like a bad sentence
misread as subject and object
tangle for dominion.
I woke to a turf war,
a scrap over scraps,
haunch of a rabbit,
and even the dog,
prone to intercede,
recoiled.
Image: Leonardo Yip on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
You’re work is always impressive, and in particular I liked how your subtle sense of humour comes through in the words. Great stuff!
Thank you Scrunch. I do appreciate the feedback.
D