a poem by Lynne Colgrave, UK

Elegy for a Barn Owl

I found him on a snow-lit day
As clouds hung over
velvet grey,
Stiffly cold, his wings outspread
As if denying he were dead.

And all throughout that bitter night
I dreamt of his
nocturnal flight,
The silent swoop, the sudden pounce
On unsuspecting vole or mouse.

I thought I saw him with his kill
Alight upon my
Window sill
Illuminated by the snow;
His voice rang out both clear and low.

Twit-twoo, his eerie cry
Became my phantom
For in my dream
I saw him die
And watched his silver spirit fly.

I found him lying on the ground
His tigered feathers
Gentlest brown,
The softest down of tender white
And frozen eyes as black as night.

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