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The Owl

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The moon hovers heavily in the dark starry night.
It emanates an array of ominous white light.
As the brisk howling wind whispers to the trees,
An owl lands on the branches with stealthy ease.
The moonlight reflects off its keen topaz eyes,
Mirroring the stars in the black velvet skies.
The owl’s shrill screech would send chills down your spine,
As it spots a brown mouse beneath the evergreen pines.
The owl explodes from the branch with breathtaking speed.
The wind sibilates warnings that the mouse would not heed.
As the owl descends, the mouse screams for its life,
Snatched up in claws, sharp as a knife.
Though the owl kills every night, hunts every day,
It's just a matter of life, of predator and of prey.





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