Poetry by Linnea Cooley
As night falls I lie stiff in my sleeping bag
until my heart rate slows and my
breaths begin to match the flicker
of the bug light by the door
The mice are crawling through the darkness
whispering nocturnal machinations
Their nails click on the wooden
floorboards. Near the back of the cabin
a moth flings herself against the screen
Outside, the spiders pull apart the bodies of dead flies
while the bats pull apart the bodies of dead spiders
A lonesome fox chews on the bones of a bat
The fisher cat by the lake, screams
About the Poet
Linnea Cooley is a poet residing in the Washington D.C. area. Her poetry appears in Neologism Poetry Journal, Boston Accent Lit, and Anti-Heroin Chic among others. More of her work can be seen on her website.
Vita Brevis Press. 
Wondrous imagery Linnea, you certainly painted a colourful (gory) side of our nocturnal creatures….
Well done, Linnea. You’ve caught the essence of being out in the woods at night, and nature’s midnight party.