Greater Glider no more

A sky of shimmering blues turns a rust orange as I pass blooming sprouts.

I glide watching, waiting for the sky to send me home.

Predators observe the shifting earth, soil spews up from the ground.

Trees of my history tower over ant hills that shower the surface of the garden.

I am the prey they are sniffing out, I will be caught.

Owls loom overhead, the wind changes and they pounce.

Gliding until tomorrow I hide clinging to my life.

I perch and witness hands holding up a sun consisting of starlight.

Ponds reflect the sunlight as it sparkles along the river bank.

Someone is coming, I must hide.

Shifting and squirming, I squeeze into the crevasse upon the fence.

I don’t take risks, still as the plants around me, I sit observing.

They scurry around as if they are in a hurry, I want to get them out of here.

Pouncing I scurry back around the garden eager and hungry.

I shift with the wind, I was caught, I am no longer