Owl Nights

Linda Himot

Restless, the owl hunts at night when none can see.
His cries, like a dead brother, disturb my sleep,
shiver me awake despite still air and heat.

Prey to grief, I recite my catechism of losses.
Their sharp talons grasp, stun the breath from my body –
an entire family of sepia shaded faces – except two

long-haired nieces, chartreuse and pink, giggles and games
they come to visit – stay the week – smiles to melt –
my owl cache of frozen tears saved for times of privation.

Advertisements

Tags: , , ,

Categories: Uncategorized

Subscribe

Subscribe to our RSS feed and social profiles to receive updates.

No comments yet.

Share your thoughts...

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: