Winter Quatern

Owl throws her voice against the night

and prowls the trails of gauzy light

laid down by moon and glacial stars

in luminous strokes that mark the hours

    till morning paints its golden flowers.
    Owl throws her voice against the night
    and glides through moonlight’s phantom bars,
    thinking red thoughts, rapt in flight,

dreaming of the art of war –

of bones, and blood, and warm, soft fur.

Owl throws her voice against the night,

caroling her grim delight,

    seducing mice with songs of stars
    that wheel above the fields and marsh.
    Telling them that all is right
    Owl throws her voice against the night

e. yon

This is from the chapbook, Fruit & Bones.  It is the poem that earned for me the title of Perry County Poet Laureate in 1999.  The illustration is by Rev. Gilbert White, from his The Natural History of Selborne (1879).

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