Mother

By Jennifer Coffey

I am an owl, gliding on whispering wings

I wonder if I will be successful in my nocturnal quest

I hear mice chattering, squeaking in the foliage

I see fear radiating from the grass as they cower in shadow

I want to feed those grey, furry rodents to my children

I am an owl, gliding on whispering wings.

I pretend I have no responsibilities

I feel carefree and alive as I soar through the celestial ink

I touch the wind, the moon, the stars

I worry my children will starve if I cannot find nourishment

I cry mournfully to my mate who circles a few miles away

I am an owl, gliding on whispering wings.

I understand that my territory is quickly vanishing

I say humans have forgotten us, the earth’s winged warriors

I dream that my children will fly over endless, towering forests

I try to focus on my task: bringing a meal back to my nest

I hope I will be successful in my nocturnal quest

I am an owl, gliding on whispering wings.