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Some toad said poetry is meter and rhyme

I heard an owl clawing
in between eye-rolls 'gainst a tree,
and the haunting that drew shadows af'wards
were left as stains in nerves of me.

I whispered the vision
in ear under hungering light
and grew tendrils that tied us together,
you, me, an owl, one shallow night.

We spotted it again
on a hunt through plush Mutley Park,
it's body full feathered, hardened and posed,
smoked cigarettes, stared in the dark.

I suppose we were scared
to look, quench curiousity,
so instead sat, discussed our old lovers,
and how'd we'd escape the city.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
Author's Note
Title. Just to stretch the legs.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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