The Owls

(The beginning of more free-verse poetry to come..I'm thinking about putting together a collection for download)


The Owls

I tumbled in the weeds,
an off-road detour,
one-way ticket
with no return.

A downer lullaby,
to sing the child asleep,
the crows pecked out your eyes,
but you’ve grown accustomed to the feeling.

Your comfort in the cold,
sooths,
the ice burns away
your uncertainty.

Here in the dark,
they’ll eat your flesh.
The Owls are not what they seem.