Your Poem

Snow is battering the scene,

with wind whistling by the owl,

perched upon an erect monument

in the form of a cattail

that seemed to cushion the owl.

The owl is winking,

with round bumblebees as eyes,

jet black in the center

and mustard on the outside.

Its feathers are like mud

on this snowy day.

With fur that is arranged uniformly,

as if the work of an artist,

there are seemingly soft spines,

jetting out

from the foot of the furry segment

surrounded by the cattail.