The ocean fog
Is like a great
gray owl,
Swooping in from
the sea
On silent wings,
Enveloping the
shoreline.
In the evening,
After the sun
goes down
And the moon
rises over the ocean,
The owl awakens
Far offshore.
It glides toward
the coast,
Slowly,
steadily,
Creeping closer
and closer
As the night
draws on.
Its gray wings
drift
Over the kelp
beds
And over the
beaches,
Spreading
silence.
When the sun
rises
Over the
horizon,
It shines in
vain;
For the silent
owl,
Coming in by
night,
Has spread its
gray wings
Over the shoreline,
Clinging to the
sea,
Blanketing the
forests,
Wrapping around
the mountains.
The owl spreads
a curious silence
Across the
coast,
And casts the new
day into
A murky
twilight.
As the morning
drags on,
The sun finally
gathers its strength
And drives the
silent owl away.
I enjoy this
poem because of its thoughtful use of descriptive language. It doesn’t overuse
it, like in many poems, but instead gives us subtle tones and a variety of
language in order to create an image in your head that flows throughout the
poem like a short movie. This is emphasized by using techniques like
alliteration, and repetition. The author tricks our minds into focusing solely
on the owl by using a variety of language, but using the word owl a
considerable amount.
For me the essence of the poem lies
in the background of the poem. Not really the owl, but the beautifully
described background. The poem really gives you an idea of the owl passing a
landscape with forests, mountains, and the time of day passing with a
sun-rising, a murky twilight and an owl rising out of the night.
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