Feathered Message

Feathered, she whispered.

Feathered, she winged.

“The night is leaving the land,

you know.”

I was curled up

and blinked slow

and sleepy.

“What, Spring is coming?

The air tastes like snow.”

The owl regarded

me with yellow

moon eyes.

“Who will you be in the sun?“

Then she spread her

white wings

and with the winter

was gone.