The Death Owl

This is the third poem of the trilogy.  To read the first part Her Key, click here. To read the second part Lilly had a lover, click here.

At night, the owl glides quietly past my Mamaw Lilly’s window.

i vow to put a curse on one wing.

Some how, my chant i begin to sing.

All the clocks stop their tick tick ticking.

Sick with dread i know my mamaw is dead.

The next month as i stand barefoot in her fresh dirt,

my heart is hurt,

my charm, it did not work.

The crows are in the graveyard, cawing a warning sound.

i call out they can’t keep me away.

i can’t be afraid.

i must be brave.

i will listen and learn from them.


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