Mountain Pygmy Possums

The plants start moving as the creatures awake for the night.

All the critters sing their own little songs, a beautiful harmony.

A tiny dart rushes through the bushes, crackling noises at every turn,

hungry balls of fluff sliding graciously through the terrain. 

One single hiss and everything falls silent.

Bigger footsteps rumbling in the distance.

A pounce and a scream,

a howl and a screech.

A splash of red paint falls from a bush,

smell of a carcass fills the humid air.

The attraction makes the ravens soar,

hoping for a feast and much gore.

We have to stop this,

Once and for all.

For the mountain pygmy possums,

before there are no more.