A Whimsy of Owls

a winter imagining…

Photo by Chirag Saini on Unsplash

I dream of owls upon a chilly night,
With feathers warm and deep and soft,
In tawny brown and silver, flecks of white,
Their pinions long to float the hours aloft.
This purple, silent, sodden twilight glow —
My heart a-shiver with the growing cold —
Brings thoughts how night would find me gliding low
Above the grass or crying long and bold
To moon and meadow if I were an owl;
I’d chortle to my mate…




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A. Christine Myers

A. Christine Myers

Lyric poet

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