kikubirduk

WOODCOCK

In darker recesses of damp wood
Merging with bracken and leaf fall
Woodcock sits perfectly motionless
Waits out way of days brave world.

For the drawing of dusk is his hour
To fly up withershins over the trees;
By intimation of twilight's beginning
Play game of moontopped canopy.

Left, left, right - deft jinks of delight
Silently underneath bough, round crown
Never head-on for more than a blink
In copse-hid course of roding flight.

Elusive treasure, ethereal on wing
Earth set gem come ghost of night
Too swift through dark to bid farewell
In nocturne course of roding flight.