Poetry

Owlet

Cordelia S.R. Woodard

One quiet hour
the sky is
beautifully bright.
One quiet hour
darkness seeps
through the light.
But while you are slumbering
a noise splits the night—
a tiny owl breaks its shell
looking left and right!
Thinking its hollow
is the whole world,
thinking the Earth is small.

Stone Soup · Children’s Art Foundation · Since 1973