Surgical Strike

In the cloud the leopard prowled
The misted branches bent
Mottled movement, monkey howled
He stopped, he turned, he went

Slanting on the rain-slick limb
The scalpel-teeth unfurled
Reaching out, the monkey’s slim
Hand missed the fig. He hurled

Off his limb to get the fig
The moment that the cat
Sprung and missed – it had to dig
Its claws into the mat

Made of moss, and thus it lost
Its grip and tumbled round
Bounded off a limb that cost
Its life. It hit the ground

Dead before the monkey heard
The sound of clouded death
Whisper past the place that lured
Uphir to his last breath