Walking through a patch
Of tall grass in the North Place
She broke the silence and said,

	“If we crouched, we could be camouflaged,
	and the grass would only show
	the space where we were
	by the gaps between strands
	above us.”

And I thought to myself,
Like two tigers sitting, patient but eager
For some unsuspecting victim,
Probably a carefree gentleman, whistling,
To walk by us so we could pounce
And ravish his soft flesh from bone
With our fangs and talon-like claws
Dragging the remains back to
Our lair to care for our young cubs

© J. Bernhard

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