Darkne

Leaves, twigs, coated like a shag pile.
The dark canopy, chlostraphobic.
Shoots and shadows emaciated under
The roots.
Black soil, black paws stride across
Trailing behind a wet nose, trainers compress
And mulch the organic floor, cracking
Carpeted twigs as the lead chinks.
Shadows and sunlight duel for floorspace,
And in this light show of afternoon
A figure appears like a driver, a flogger
a beater.  The trainers stop, the patter of
paws peater to a stop as the low rumble,
grumbles and growls.  Eyes scowl as the
Darkness moves closer.
Barking like the gunfire
Of a shooting party, evil pheasants.
The air freezes, dry cold, death.
Isolated from sunlight,
The darkness moves across the mulch
No cracking twigs, just steel draft,
Displaces leaves as it moves.
Pace up, fast up.
Paws and trainers, spit in a run,
The shadow envelopes all.
Soon sunlight saviour to
The frightened, warming
It cuts through the darkness.
No dark beater, just a cravace
Of the mind.