the owls, the owls
they tiptoe along the wire
sharing songs and stories,
eons of lifetimes together
fervent hoots and warbles
altogether
impressive wingspans as they envelop
the biting morning air together
hush down little prey
scatter as you may
all words, no prey, no victims
but treated with such tenderness
owls caress the vowels and syllables
without damnation
with much great proof
of ultimate, irreverent
atypical swayyy
through and through
plucked from the heavens
or beneath their soaring
impressive is as is impressive treatment sees
will and hopes proving
the chase is uplifting
the owls hoot as they see fit
sharing language,
skills
sharing to be free free free
in it.
the owls, can’t you see,
are here, once hushed,
now present and completely
doing as they believe, trust,
to share their magic
their wide saucer-filled eyes
echoed with great substance
reflections, mirrors,
no lies.
(27/11/21)
Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Michael Hoyt on Unsplash
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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