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.