Nonfiction Poetry Poetry Friday

[Poetry Friday] “If the Owl Calls Again” by John Haines

I'll wait for the moon to rise, then take wing and glide to meet him.

poetry-friday

Fats here.

For today’s (bird) Poetry Friday, I’m sharing a poem by John Haines, which I discovered through poets.org. This is for anyone who loves birds—particularly, owls. Enjoy!

Poetry Friday round-up is hosted by
Christy at Wondering and Wandering!


owl.jpg
Owl portrait courtesy of Shannon D’Arcy Photography.

If the Owl Calls Again

at dusk from the island in the river, and it’s not too cold, I’ll wait for the moon to rise, then take wing and glide to meet him. We will not speak, but hooded against the frost soar above the alder flats, searching with tawny eyes. And then we’ll sit in the shadowy spruce and pick the bones of careless mice, while the long moon drifts toward Asia and the river mutters in its icy bed. And when the morning climbs the limbs we’ll part without a sound, fulfilled, floating homeward as the cold world awakens.

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Fats works at the Circulation Department of the Wayne County Public Library in Wooster, Ohio. She takes book hoarding seriously and also enjoys collecting bookmarks and tote bags. When she is not reading, Fats is either goofing around with her cat or playing video games. She is 60% Gryffindor and 40% Ravenclaw.

6 comments on “[Poetry Friday] “If the Owl Calls Again” by John Haines

  1. Beautiful! Thank-you for sharing both pic and poem.

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  2. Fascinating POV in this poem.

    Like

  3. lindabaie

    Love this idea, Fats, the mystery of “who” is speaking, “who” will go out into the night to pick those bones with the owl. I have been on a night prowl to see an owl, sat with my husband’s aunt in a wood one night waiting, and there it came, swooping down, very close I guess to check us out, then away onto its hunt. You’ve brought back that night for me with your beautiful story poem.

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  4. Oh, this is just beautiful. I love “We will not speak, but hooded against the frost soar above the alder flats, searching with tawny eyes.” and especially “when the morning climbs the limbs.” Such gorgeous language and imagery…and mystery!

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  5. Kay Mcgriff

    That is a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it.

    Like

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