with your small, grasping hands,
scurrying away with your prize nut
between your lips,
escaping painlessly,
darting between the shadows of the forest.
So easy a prize,
the guard is down beneath the tree,
no other claims on the treasure you seek,
only cobwebs,
the distant cry of a bird of prey.
But you can dodge,
agile feet learning their dance
to get to what you desire,
birds of prey be damned.
They have never threatened you before.
But now you are in their sights,
pretty little thing,
and their talons are sharp,
the better to rip your thieving heart from your body,
leaving only the memory
of bright, button eyes and small, quick limbs.