DUSK OWLUnseen in daylight, masked by bark
furled leaves, matted branches
you quietly wait for a lower light.
Then as clouds pass
you glow, soft grey
among the luminescent insects
that flicker around the tree.
Feathers bunch over muscle
as you rise to move from blind proximity,
to travel out where night vision sharpens.
Now you can see the hoarfrost
sparkle on the furrows,
the tremble of hedge dwellers
who, seeing your wing shape shadow the field,
crouch back and hold still.