At nightfall, cold and brilliant
beautifully dying Saturday
in the claws of an owl, coughing,
resting.
demure i was, each time the owl coughed,
i was forgetful.
slowly, too slowly, the message seeped in.
a predator was after me. A sick one.
would i get away?
Could i?
or would i be snatched up, tossed twice,
roasted and pummeled in that owl‘s gizzard?
don’t want to think of what comes after that.
It turned first for the worst, it had me,
(forever in the air struggling
at talons gripping me tight,
waiting for the end and
final night…)
save me, Save me, please,
exempt me from this painful death
exhale you your venom of me.
. I tear out a
talon
touch feet to the ground
begin to race, one
hook in my back
I drag the owl about
free for as long as my legs hold out.
