Kellen McAllister

Grade: 12

North Royalton High School

Instructor: Stacie Leatherman

Owl Calling

Poetry

Owl Calling

"Owl Calling"
On a winter night I reach into the air
Snowflakes melt on my fingers turned red like coals
My hand grows numb but I keep my glove in my pocket.
Right now I don't want to disturb the night.
Deep in the forest an owl's perched in a branch.
I can hear it calling softly.
Unraveling the sleepiness of the night.
If ever there was a time for me to be, this is it.
The snow is enough light to make out the wrinkles in Dad's face.
He's quiet right now. He knows when to be.
The owl calls again but gets no reply.
Who, Who, Who has she lost?
The ache of her sounds echo in my heart.
Everything lost beats and pulses through my veins.
I watch my fingers turn redder and my hand twitches.
I'm reaching for something long gone.
What exactly, is unknown to me.
Dad looks over and gently wraps his gloved hand around mine.
He's always had a sort of melancholiness to him.
He feels the aching as much as the owl and I do.
We listen as she calls once more and watch as she rises out of the woods, continuing her search.