Owls and Larks
His keen eyes and talents
binged up on the branches
she sat in
singing satin siren songs
through the glass window
pain slipped
like sun rays and fragrance
off the fresh rain
leaves her soggy shoes at the door,
her wet skirt on the floor
and drenched thoughts in the storm.
With the moon in the stars
she’s not used to this far
through all hours of the night,
but he found light
in the bugs buzzing by
and the reflection on her eye
like a bubble’s subtle shine.
It was in those times
they shed their weathered feathers,
forgot about the tethers
that tied them to their lives.
They meet at dusk
and leave at dawn
to get away for a moment,
a taste of gone.
-WildFievel
