Owl God

One of those nights when the moon was free The owl god sat and stared right through me I was consternated at what I might have done Or was he just staring at me, having some animal fun? I had a feeling that death was not in the air. In my current mood, did I truly care? A cool wind went through my bones in a flash. I was quivering now like the last piece of ash. The owl god spoke, and I listened quite hard. But he did not address me, he turned to my bard. Teach her to write better poems, he said sternly. She’s got potential, he said, pointing at me. I was shocked, surprised, amazed, and mad. You might have thought I would have been a bit glad. But I already thought I knew how to write. So I was irritated on this mystical night.