Flight of the Owl

A short poem

Photo by Agto Nugroho on Unplash

The owl’s wings commence their flap

As he takes off from his perch,

The night is black

When he begins his hungry search.

Mice move to a scurry

And shrews scrunch down low,

The bird of prey is out now

So look out to all below.

Gliding under the moonlight

He moves without a sound,

Majestic to the human

Though not to those living on the ground.

Perspective changes our viewpoint

And we know that to be true,

The owl is enemy to some

But he is harmless to me and you.

Grant Fuerstenau is a Medical Student at the University of Louisville School of Medicine and the editor of The Biographical Historian.