The patient owl

The moon lazily emerges ambling the skies,

when birds are still one with the night

nesting in black filigree treetops, hidden

from the preying owl, who by now is fully awake,

mesmerized by moonlight that mirrors in her eyes.

Sitting and waiting, the horizon pulls her awareness.

Dawn, night in reverse, pulsates flashes of green
over the distant ocean, dyes

the skyline yellow between night and day.

Still night has the upper hand, gives it life
with little mice, lets them scurry

up the trees, towards the lazy moon,

past the patient owl hungry for spirit and flesh.