Owl 7


Invisible on wings

(feather sings)


the clawed and hook-beaked


curving air into a net,

(fretworked jet)

meshed with moonlight,

scoops in caged hand

a hot-blooded scrap,

(wing-flap, neck-snap)

and the night shrieks

in triumph.



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.

14 thoughts on “Owl 7”

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