Wednesday, January 30, 2013

"Poem About an Owl" by Deborah Garrison

Francesco Renzi


I've never seen an owl
Not a real one

But often enough at night
Have started up at the wingbeat:

Long, with loaded silence between lengths
Like velvet ripping

The children's-book eyes
Saucerish and startled with wisdom

Sweeping the forest floor
For a little something, a little something

And I leapt from sleep
If indeed I was sleeping

Belted my robe like a mother of old
And rushed to their beds to see

If it got them, the skidding talon,
Where they were quietly

Breathing in their own
Animal dreams.

"Poem About an Owl" by Deborah Garrison, from The Second Child© Random House, 2007.

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