Camo
Into the woods he disappears
As a phantom in the day
At home in the shadows
As noisy squirrels play
He moves very slowly
And keeps his steps light
A dry creek is his road
Where he quietly walks by
He sneaks up to owls
Sleeping on a limb
Unknowing of his presence
There just under them
He\'s is walking free
Next to trunks and limbs
He is by a tree
And they can’t imagine him
After he has passed
They know they’ve been observed
But cannot say by what
Or when it occurred