It arrives at dusk,
prowling like an arachnid in the wood
weaving between limbs that stretch out
to the sky like fragile fingers.
The blackness is its welcome,
sharp as a howl,
and vast as the deep navy canvas adorning the land.
It comes with subtle beauty that is sung by
a choir of caws and crickets and dying leaves
and nips at your marrow ever so intimately,
taking ragged breaths before plunging
a blade in your heart.