An arctic owl
Perched on a brush stroke cloud
Stares coolly down
Between the silhouettes
Of phantom boughs
Through the sultry southern twilight
It swoops past pane and sill
On milky wings
Settling talons
Deep in my breast
The incense of the meadow
And the throb of the air against quills
Are my only tokens
As it lifts back into the night
Carrying away a piece
Of my foolish heart
A contest entry
- Things With Wings II by GarnetAndBlack.
600 points, ended October 3, 2007, 9 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - [Sailor Moon] by whiterabbit..
300 points, ended November 19, 2007, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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This is good I could feel this
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I really like the feel that this poem has. Great job.
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Nice entry, best of luck in the contest
CR
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