Snowy Nights

The snow glides in on the feathers of an owl;

Swift and silent.

It comes in the dead of night,

Striking down the foolish that are still out and about.

Pale white in the bright moon,

The owl stands out starkly in contrast,

Yet nothing can avoid the graceful attack.

They try to run, but always are caught in a burst of wind and cold white plumes.

The owl flies through the night, leaving glittering white trails in its wake.

As the dawn rises, the last hunts of the night begin,

Started with a flurry.

They fly on quiet wings,

Creating blizzards surrounding them.

The bright light of the sun crawls over the mountains

And the owls hurry to hide.

Feathers coat the ground as they fall from the sky.

They fly through the night

On to the next town.

When the sun is finally up,

The owls are gone,

Leaving only the cold, heavy, white plumes on the ground-

A reminder of the night.

The End

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