Monday, June 08, 2009

fields of owl glass

I have elegised that owl out there
I hear him wail his strix as we speak
sometime last night I knew
he was not a lullaby
he is a warbling madman drained of blood
his beak thick with dried flies
tied to the wheel coming fast across the field
his eyes fixed on soft parts

a shriek out there
he has got the cat
next it's me I know
if I don't make it
to the window
to issue my glow


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