Now falls a night made rich for haste
the autumn moon all coin of blank,
counterfeit as the mercy of silence.
To have this place in dream by day
beneath the hush of slowness beating,
a wing’s pause drawing of patience.
Call forth an art all blood in making
to dive now potent a span’s elegant,
speaking only where life is broken.
And scurry to take any final sentence
unwise adjudicators seek permission,
wake to weigh my mortal indulgence.
Photo of a Powerful Owl courtesy of the ABC.
James Walton Poetry 