Lean

Leaving milk & breadcrumbs; so often frowned upon.
Tracks, I see in snow, silhouetted by the dawn.

Who has plucked my bounty & crossed my wooden fence?
Ghostly prints in ghostly light, something has gone hence.

Snowy crystal shines as shades flee this later light.
Darkness did disguise the thief in the deep of night.

New moon slotted in its shift just this eve before.
Hid by hidden moon, the rogue could’ve taken more.

There’s naught but fading steps as flurries blank my bluff.
Forgive the desperate soul surviving in the rough.