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The Owl

Red in tooth and claw

fat and
feathery-soft,
deceptively
weightless;
he floats,
a skilful sackful of
ether,
on invisible
waves.
he silhouettes against
the moon’s pale
circle, growing with his deadly
descent.
and in each of his watchful
eyes the image of a black
rat,
fearless yet
unwary
prey,
fills all his
vision.
as he swoops to
murder, a raucous cry
rips open the black
star-pocked
sky-dome; the cold
beak
tears also
the warm living flesh,
and gives the lie
to angels and their
God.
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