The owl is in flight. Its body still.
Head oscillating in search of a kill.
On the wing as dusk turns to night.
A flap of its wings retains its height.

With extraordinarily piercing night vision,
And pin sharp hearing to give precision.
The target is located and locked in place.
The owl descends. This is not a chase.

With feathers that absorb the sound,
Silently the owl reaches the ground.
Unannounced, it lands on the shrew.
Then effortlessly up and away it flew.