Owl 9

I’ve been writing a lot of owl poems lately, almost reached thirteen. This is today’s. For December, the weather is frighteningly warm.

 

December days

of butterflies

and dragonflies

while lizard lies

basking in the sun.

Haws of maraschino

orange of oak

marcescent leaves

blaze

ashen now

by the light of the moon

they flutter

ghostly

as the wing feathers

of an owl.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s