One hundred owls

 I'm in the tree with a hundred owls
hooting the night out screeching power
fear induced entities crawl surrepticiously 
upon the forest floor

avoiding these hypefocused eyes
that survey all that moves or cries
Up here its any sign of movement
and these ones dive into the blackness

just to surface with prey in mouth
beak wet with blood spelled
something for the hungry chicks sounding 
begging for what vanished from the ground

These owls decide among living and dead
with which phantoms to converse with
close to Royalty yet supernatural nearer
The rodent shakes persecuted in terror

across the leaf littered forest wings tear
lifting the loose matter into the air
like a sea wake behind it
pitch darkness

one hundred owls speak
eye
claw
beak