Did You Hear The Owl?

 

The owl spoke, his vowels languorous

and rotund, advising the forest that its

prime predator was in residence, then

repeated his advisory several times for

good measure, the whoo of it resounding

through the damp cloister of the moody interior

until each was absorbed by the forest canopy.

The forest is a place of mystery shielded

from the ever-changing sky, its dusky

interior home to vegetation posing a lethal

threat to those unable to distinguish the

edible from the baneful fruits of its various

residents. The diurnal forest boasts form and

colour of assertive intruders invading the

space of native species, some of beauty and

others undeniably harmful in the spirited way

of nature's invention. In the nocturnal hours

the owl's head swivels detecting each whisper

of movement before launching silent flight

eyes luminous in the dark, talons outspread.