Owling at the Moon

Tucked deep into fireside
downy sleep, she listens.

A distant heart cries

Oh, feathered hope,
I wish I knew.


Written for Poetry Jam.
(Doesn’t that sound yummy?)

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4 Responses to Owling at the Moon

  1. Mary says:

    Lovely writing, De! Don’t we all wish we knew Whooooooo?

  2. Gabriella says:

    For several years, I lived in an apartment from where I could hear an owl at night. It felt just as in your poem.

  3. “feathered hope” such a fitting description of hope.
    I read this as a mother’s hope toward her young daughter. I remember as a young girls just being fascinated by the fact that I might one day be married — and indeed, whoooooo in the world would it end up being!
    Love your title as well – as usual 🙂

  4. alan1704 says:

    Nicely done, that sound of the Owl is certainly unique and you feel this in your words.

Use your words.

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