Hidden Bushes

Leaves entwined in merciless agony
Wired around twigs and scerenity,
Twisted of deposits from nature
And from weather it endures.
Stinking of simplicity and degradation
As cuddled humbly in habitation,
Feathered fowl sit settled silently
Avoiding thorns of protective potency
And watch with smooth glossy eyes
Awaiting food, even hungry, never cries.

When...

From a threatening distance heard
Come sounds of murder endured
As creaking and groaning crawls,
Tracks and claws, booming it bawls,
Spouting fumes, blackness curls,
And stripped leaves on treds are twirled
And hidden bushes growing true,
Scraped from earth and dirt too;
Under twenty tons of dredging hardware
Stares a tiny morsal of fowl unaware.