Owl and Squirrel: Tanka

Nothing Gold Poetry.

I’m prey, you, hunter,

We dance the ancient tango

I fear your talons

You fear only my bones

Catching in your throat.

Author’s Notes: Last summer, a great horned owl was perched on the power line outside of my house. I’m still beating myself up for not getting any pictures. A little squirrel happened to be running on the wire and stopped in it’s tracks when it saw the owl, and my family and I watched as the squirrel would tentatively approach the owl and then run back as the owl sat and watched, waiting for the squirrel to get within talon range.   I was describing the predatory way my rapist (R.)  treated me from the beginning of our relationship to my therapist, and a mental image of the owl and the squirrel came into my head and I knew I had to write a poem about it. I…

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