“Whose woods these are I think I know…”
— Robert Frost
Night Eyes
What traveler is this I see below
What he stops to ponder, I do not know
I doubt he’ll see me perched above
My night eyes seeking tasty grub
The woods are alive, despite the hour
Soft snowfall coats a vibrant choir
His awareness may be dull and blunt
But his horse will sense me primed to hunt
A harness shake, he knows I’m near
Perhaps perceives there’s naught to fear
For though I have them in my gaze
It’s smaller prey I seek to haze
Night beckons my broad wings to soar
Vigilant, prepped for a nightly chore
None of us has the time for play
I take my night eyes and fly away
— Jen Pacini
A delightful take on the brief, clever, I love the fact it's aware but not interacting with Frost's character.