Owl – A Poem

 

Owl

It was in the days
you said
to us
as the wind break trees burned crimson
orange
and darkened in the west
before the stones were shaken into diamonds
and the crown still rested
on the wounded king
that the owl would  pass over the harvested fields
unnoticed
capturing the youthful dreams and loves
that bloom
at nightfall.
He would bring them to the king
who would dine on them to
remain young.
The miller’s daughter
after wrapping herself in the
dark linens of her own sorrow
tracked the owl
one night
to its perch on the ruined wall
escaping the web of deceptive spells
that it cast.
And there she opened the bottle
which contained his
last word
and the owl froze into the rock it rested upon.
An outlaw then
the miller’s daughter fled into the wild desert
region
alone
far from the king’s reach
whose bones aged quickly in the coming years
as the owl sat powerless
watching with hatred beating in its heart
and with stone eyes
and wings.

 

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4 thoughts on “Owl – A Poem

    • Thank you KB. This is one where I took an image and wrote based on it, which is a practice I don’t normally do, so I am glad to hear you think it came out well. And it also gave me a chance to explore my love of fairy tales and fantasy.

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