Brief Encounter. Old Steading, Altass
Curious, I peered through the non-door
and saw old cow stalls, mangers between
roof supports, timbers for burning.
The new owner’s firewood, split logs,
chopping block, axe, bow saw.
No windows relieved the inside gloom
so I stepped closer, my body shape
framed by the doorway
Then one more step.
A white flash in the half-light
moving, fast; straight at me. Silent.
No time to duck, aiming at the space
between my head
and the door jamb. The occupant,
an escaping barn owl, soundless
till the wing tip brushed my ear
and cheek; a feathered razor
from my eye to neck.
I staggered back into bright day,
turning to watch my equally startled
into the trees, a pure white cut-out
against dark green, now etched
By Dave Goulder
Last Updated on 10 September, 2021 by Kyle Chronicle