The Owl

The Owl 
The Owl is a mysterious bird
He is like a vampire who hunts by night and sleeps by day
A bird so rarely seen and yet still be heard
Somewhere in a tree he sits
 But which tree
Nobody knows
There he sits listening and looking
as he waits  for his meal
Suddenly there's movement on the ground
With one fast swoop he catches his prey
And off into the night he flies away
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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