swooping shadow

even a wren creates a shadow

flying above and trailing

a flapping bit of darkness

across the path in front of me

but the swoop of a bird of prey’s

sinister silhouette overhead

freezes breath and pulse

i can only imagine the terror

of a chick or rabbit with death

soaring between earth and sun

toll

fear takes such toll

making me huddle

rather than stand erect

restricting my limbs

when i should reach out

keeping me muffled

when, for once, i should speak

perhaps i should wait

until what is dreaded

touches me

instead of cowering

in anticipation