The sonnet sequence, "My Human Disguise," of 600 ekphrastic poems, was begun February 2011 and completed January 15, 2022. It can be found beginning with the January 20, 2022 post and working backwards. Going forward are 20 poems called "Terzata," beginning on January 27, 2022. Thirty more Terzata can be found among the links on the right. A new series of dramatic monologues follows on the blog roll, followed by a series of formal poems, each based on a single word.
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Thursday, December 14, 2017
Arctic Owl and Winter Moon (Burchfield), Sonnet #383
Having rehabbed injured owls for years, She thought they only mimicked being smart — Deaf to no distant sound, acute seers, Intelligent of senses, dead of heart. Having fed, flown and loved her birds of prey, She released them only as night took day. They always flew strong and straight to a tree, Perched in plain sight as if they weren’t yet free. She thought of each one later that evening. Would it be starving or hot ravening? A full moon is almost a handicap When you can hunt in total darkness. You hover and glide, drop without a flap Of sound: the prey dies knowing no distress.
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