Owl Boy

I’ve never lived amongst
Nor seen great many
In the barns at night.

Yet, as the summer
Fades to autumn
I hear them calling hoo, hoo!

It’s melancholy and
It’s beautiful.

My senses trace
Their disembodied notes
To far off trees.

For that moment
As a gust of air
I fly with them.

My eyesight picks up
Mice and spiders.

I dive after them
As if my life depends
On catching food.

With wide wings spread
The length of the horizon
I fall wild and unrivaled.

Bats and branches
Part before me.

It’s moving –
Somehow religious even
Coming down from heaven.

Dusk shines color halos
On my neck – to make me
A nocturnal prophet.

The ground is fast
Approaching now.

Before I blink
It all goes blank
And deathly dark.

I can’t recall
What happened
As I’m broke.

My wings are bent;
My feathers dirty.

I cry out hoo, hoo!
Yet no one answers
Though I’m sure they hear.

Hunger sets in
While I fast, repent
For ecstasy.

My wails become
Both beautiful and tragic.

The rats, I thought
Might taste so grand
Now turn on me.

But, before I feel their bite
I’m home.

The owls’ cries
Are once more a
Disembodied fantasy.

Yet, what can I,
Who’s known the world,
Now take for granted?

Your turn :)