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Sunday, 15 November 2015

The Call Will Come: Katherine L. Gordon




A screech-owl shredded
November clouds shadowing
the fields of night,
with her shiverous cry.
No glimmerous moon or spark of star
softened the darkness,
quiverous shapes, swallowed in dense blackness,
discerned only by screech-owl eye lantern.
She could wake the dead.
That veer of flight not mine to wield
but I sense her intention.
 


 
Katherine L. Gordon
Ides of November,  2015.

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