A Fallen Tree

A Fallen Tree

I'm sitting on a fallen tree
a distance from the path,
but not so far that I can't see
or hear a squirrel's wrath.

The morning sun has kissed the ground
and caused the frost to thaw.
Something comes without a sound,
it stalks by stealth of paw.

I come here when I need to think,
for clarity of mind,
so often when I'm on the brink
of falling far behind.

Now I'll put those thoughts on hold
a hunter comes my way ,
it walks along this path so bold,
searching for its prey.

I squint my eyes and wonder could,
this thing be after me?
I glimpse the prowler of the wood;
my cat is all I see.