Prince of Darkness
Autumn breeze rustles forest's underbelly,
sanctuary's silence disrupted
as silvered statue upon bare branches
swoops down, unearths devout,
ignores pious prayers for deliverance,
his thanks, a swift devouring.
by Margaret Bednar, October 14, 2018
This was actually a version of a poem I wrote in December 2013. I greatly massaged it and like it so much butter. I think I'm a bit better at this poetry thing than I was five years earlier.
Happy to participate in (but posting very late) in "Poets United = Midweek Motif - The Owl"
Im sure to him its just a case of mice are so yummy.
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by to read mine Margaret
Much love...
"his thanks, a swift devouring."....Yes, yes...that's the owl. Very swift and silent is his way.
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ReplyDeleteSo aptly describes that tell-tale swoop 'n feast!
That opening line is just gorgeous!
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