The Owl

It was a foggy night,
the moon hid behind the clouds.
From the balcony of my room,
as I stood enjoying the breeze,
a vague form caught my eye.

What could it be! I wondered
when a sudden cry startled me.
The wind blew as I watched,
to reveal a dead tree, on which
sat an owl, staring back at me.

I stared back, unblinking
but the owl won the game.
It smiled at me! I won,
it seemed to say to me.
The white owl on the dead tree.


Painting : Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju