Daylight stalks its poised victim
under the milky retina of morn
My eyes close tightly yet not in slumber
somewhere between the pleasure and pain
that only the hunted know.
While my hunter gains ground an inch at a time,
slithering between finger
branches of serpent hues
in hypnotic dance between gold and shade;
I long to sway to its rhythm.
Sunshine cautiously drapes every leaf and blade
creeping ever closer to my shadowy refuge
it bides its time
waiting to strike
and I eagerly await its coiled sting.