The Watcher (Owl Poem) Poem by Mick Zerr

The Watcher

Mick Zerr©2009

Eyes so round, always staring
Like small suns, forever glaring
Nothing lost, nothing missed
By the haunting, yellow disks
Just watching...

A face of color, with rust for cheeks
Centered by the smallest of beaks
With a mustache of grey
Often red with prey
….Just watching

The ears, oh the ears!
But not how he hears
Just tufts of beauty
To the girls a cutie
..Just watching

A head to swivel, almost around
To pickup the littlest sound
Of mice and voles
Coming out of their holes
...Just watching

Silver moon is queen, shining bright
A movement in the trees, now silent flight
The Watcher no more, a flyer at last
An Owl with talons, a missile so fast.
….Now hunting