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Thursday, May 26, 2022

Nest, Terzata #48

The owl fell from its nest

And cringed among roots

Yards away, fanning its breast.


We couldn’t hear the hoots

Of his mother. He made no sound,

Afraid of raptor brutes.


He was lucky he’d been found.

I took off my shirt.

We wrapped him round and round,


Carried him to his tree, unhurt,

And let him loose. He didn’t rest —

Rising on claws, he girt

The trunk with wings up to his nest. 

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