The white owl-

wounds the silent, milky night

with its screech and growl.

Long, black grasses stained with red-

and disheveled by scurrying feet

shiver in cold wind-

carrying carrion smell,

while a  crowd of insomniac words flicker

on ivory page

in a dance.



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub ~ Quadrille #36 hosted by Grace


Shared with Poetry Pantry #365 @ Poets United


31 thoughts on “Flicker

  1. I admire the dark and moody night with:

    carrying carrion smell,
    while a crowd of insomniac words flicker
    on ivory page
    in a dance.

    Thank you Sumana for participating in our celebration. Love your work. Cheers!

  2. The hunt, the kill, the ‘crowd’ gathers to watch. Wonderfully accomplished mood in this poem! I really enjoy the stark contrast between the two worlds you depict.

  3. I don’t write as much late night as I used to while being a wage slave. Retirement allows me more light on the page, less awareness of the children of the night. Like others, you had me at /carrion smell/.

  4. This is really a great piece of work, It’s so difficult to include things like an “owl screeching” well in poetry but you describing it as wounding the night is just so poignant and moving. What a beautiful way of phrasing that. Pure poetry! I read this many times.

  5. The intentionally bizarre “silent, milky night”, “long, black grasses” red “with carrion smell” delivered me the aha with the “insomniac words”. A beautiful poem on the poetry process which, I suppose (while hoping I didn’t misread), only those who’ve marched armies of sword-dancing words into bloody night battles and conquered the ivory pages with survivors of brevity and poetic expressions would understand. 🙂

  6. The insomniac visits the owl’s day and life blood, scurrying away yet influenced, alert. You take me with you. I wrote a poem today that ended with the word “dance,” too, perhaps a similar one.

Thank You :)

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