Night Bird (poem)

Night Bird

 

Night Bird

 

Are you only flying for a season, night bird

The owl’s talon in the gloaming takes you

And the rat’s wary eye sees a feather

Fall by moonlight as he noses through

A quart jar’s broken neck

This to a stumbling knee is bloody tragedy

But who grubs away at the burning place by night

 

Not a word but the shovel cuts

The prickles overarching

Not a word but the crunch of glass

is noise enough

Here in the ash pile is a bone

wormed like scrimshaw

Two molars mark it for a jaw

The digger heaves it in among the

Massing bramble stalks

The lantern flares and flares again

A haunch and whipping tail shroud it

For a second

For a second

The owl calls like a factory whistle,

like a ship in fog

Pierces its long note that dies like

the night bird’s

Jug, jug, jug

Like the plunge of a heavy weight from a height into water

 


 

Phantom

Meet Torsade

Find “Night Bird” in The Poor Belabored Beast

 

poor belabored beast cover with tortured figures

 

(copyright 2015 Stephanie Foster)

 

 

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