Dog sniffs, unsettled, senses with his flair
the nightfolk moving through the swaying grass,
the nightfolk hunting, leaving den and lair.
Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 20
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Dog sniffs, unsettled, senses with his flair
the nightfolk moving through the swaying grass,
the nightfolk hunting, leaving den and lair.
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Jane Dougherty Writes 
I love how these short poems of yours set a scene.
Animals know, don’t they?
(Apparently there’s a poop monster that chases one of my cats.) 🙂
A poop monster???
Sometimes after he poops, he races up the stairs from the basement like something is chasing him. I, of course, assumed it’s the poop monster. 🙂
Oh! That brings back memories of our first cat. He used to go crazy when he’d used his tray too. I never thought of a poop monster, just assumed he was mad. He was, but then aren’t all cats?
I suppose so. Maybe that’s we love them. 🙂
They certainly provide a lot of entertainment 🙂
That they do!
🙂
Nocturnal manoovers
Yep, exactly 🙂
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Night has its own creatures and rules. (K)
We can only listen.