Fleet-Footed

A poem of escape

Faster than
the claw and beak,
your footsteps
tell what beast did seek,
on winged descent,
that flurried night,
the Owl was thwarted
without a fight.

The other night we were laying in bed scrolling our phones and suddenly there was a big thump like something hit the wall outside our window. I jumped up to see what creature of the night or fallen limb made the noise. I peered out my window and there on the back door porch was a huge Owl looking a bit dazed. He looked around for a second then flew up to a tree branch, scanning the porch for signs of his nimble prey.

There’s a rabbit living near our house and I have startled him when I open the backdoor where he has been sitting. I think he enjoys the warm air that escapes our old drafty door that needs replaced. He escaped death that night and his footprints were his fleet-footed witness.