The Owls were Flying – Randy W. Plym

Snow, 1874 - Gustave Courbet
Snow – Gustave Courbet

The owls were flying.
Train tracks peeked out from unbroken snow.
I lied down in the chill of things unsaid
and watched the circling.
You heard the wind and the branch shake.
Half buried shopping carts by the frozen creek.
Your outstretched hand, the last storm’s flurries.
There’s nothing but the path left for us.


About the Poet

Randy Plym is a poet and author from Virginia. He currently lives in Frankfurt, Germany, where he’s working on a novel. 

For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.

One thought

Leave Your Thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s