bad-ass owl

Posted: 01/12/2014 in house of crazy, house of love

Image 4i got a bad-ass owl

makes no distinction

between the high of my arms

and the high of the trees.

 

she sit down at mama’s sunday table

lookin pretty and tearing meat right off the bone,

holding her end of conversation

and her food down with her feet.

 

my bad-ass owl

sleeps through church and chores,

but at night she sees what none can see

and then she comes to me.

_______

for Margaret’s orb thing at Real Toads

 

 

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Comments
  1. grapeling says:

    bad-ass owl is bad-ass ~

  2. Kay Davies says:

    Fabulous, Ms Coal. I’ve always loved owls.
    Hugs, K

  3. Susan Chast says:

    As long as owl has that coveed, the narrator can handle the rest!

    • Who in the tarnation is supplying you with those orbs? They must be “taken care of” because with an endless supply of those orby-things, an endless stream of poetry will come from you.

      We’re gonna have a month of this? Maybe I should hibernate…;)

  4. hedgewitch says:

    My so far unpublished pome is to this particular orb–but I ain’t lettin any bad-ass owls into it, or even ravens. My favorite part here is the feet thing. But to an owl, maybe those are hands?

  5. dani says:

    LOVE the idea of a bad-ass owl coming for Sunday dinner!

  6. Teresa says:

    This is great! I wish I had a bad-ass owl!

  7. I’d like one of those owls to roost outside my window at night. I so enjoyed this poem!

  8. margaret says:

    I originally was drawn to this whole prompt by this orb. It is both comforting and terrifying – which you capture with the bad-ass owl theme. This “BAO” sounds like trouble – yet not so easy to disengage her claws… but it’s the kind of trouble that some invite in. (I somehow feel bad for that mother having to invite the BAO in…. )

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