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Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose
GRAY OWL
Yellow gaze
calculating night gloom
swivels past musty tracks
old runs through straw
the hulks of winter harrows
homes in on scrabbles
takes to subzero air
feathered cloud
quiet as prayer
what do you sense
as now you settle?
leaving damp fur
rolled up with tiny claws
and clavicles
winged image
of our common theme
floating the backdrop
cloaked in elegant ruff
and coverts. Indifferent
to grief or innocence.
Present in this moonset
although I’m not your prey.
The Raven's Perch, 18 Feb. 2021
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