Each morning,
shadows of ponderosa shrink
as songbirds flit from trees to drink
at moss lined pools
wary of owls winging back to nests
or an eagle about to soar —
as between grey boulders
fox kits frolic
till mother calls them back to their den
safely hidden in this pine-shadowed glen
where soon after sunrise
the night hunters rest
and this day belongs to others.
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