A svelte owl,

on wing through this dark mooned night,

an ego ghost on the prowl,

to find what has been for his might.


Elusive moonlight,

scattered over frosty grass,

gliding shadows without sight,

transparent swirls etched in glass.


Curl like a devil's tail,

like a lock so innocent in young blonde hair,

a flutter like a breeze in sail,

to catch it in it's crafty snare.


To hide in the gutter,

upwind from the rain,

for the sound of a mutter,

to cause such a hollow pain.


A dark cast of silence,

in the sunlight's absent glow,

and it would all do to frighten,

if only you would just know.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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