He sits there on the sill
waiting to make a kill
still thinking of the thrill
that will bring him
new life.
He watches and he waits
for some thing to take the bait
hating that his fate
on this date may
bring strife.
He struts, he coos
oozing pure elegance
visage of defiance.
He will roam, combing
the greenery for some
bit of scenery that moves ...
his clue to strike.
Strike he does ...
And there, in the back
viewing his rapid attack
waits the lady in black
there is never a lack in her life
of lethal elegance.
mebw
© 4/24/13
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