Here & Now Poem by Patrick Dennis
Here & Now
I feel but cannot hear the downward beat
of the owl's wings which seem to move
like a poem on feathered air.
She draws to herself the half-colours of predawn
and holds still the forest
in a raptured last embrace of dark.
Even the sun in awe of the night
stands timeless and veiled
for the last benediction of flight.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
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4/26/2024 12:04:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
