Monday, 24 October 2011


The tawny owl is out again
Harboured in the oak
High in the canopy.
Hooty calls returned
From along the field boundary.

Leaving safe harbour
He pitches forward
Soft feathers cutting clean.
Silently descending
To deliver crushing death.
Completing one circle
Opening another.

I catch the riddle,
Without solving it.
Hear the hidden meaning,
Without understanding it.
But he knows the purpose
Hers as his own.

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