Shadow Birds Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Shadow birds
Are out there
In disguise vizard
And baleful snare
Every season to go
Filling out each shine
In falling of its glow
That hard is to define

Moon is drifting on
In and out of clouds
Till it's almost gone
With daybreak’s crowds
Those are early walking
On a lonely street
Scarpering or talking
With their clacking feet

Shadow birds
Flickering on a wall
Through moment’s girds
With a rising call
Every day is waking
With the sun bright
No more worries aching
From lonesome night