“During Owl Hour” [poetry]

Like a picture from a movie
When surroundings feel so groovy
Shine of bottles on the shelves
Bar feels polished by house elves

Gentleman who pours my drink
Feels like actor on sets link
So refined, so accurate
Just like prince – considerate

Hues of red and orange
Dance on marble floor
Opera in speakers challenge
My taste in classical galore

At home the picture is more subtle
The thoughts that come – fly out like shuttle
And then the taste of finest bourbon
Becomes the voice of farthest urban

The loneliness descends upon me
And this whole masquerade of glee
Transcends in mourning tower
The clock on wall strikes during owl hour

And body dances to the beat
One that I hear now on repeat
That daily death, rebirth and living
Is what my soul strives for in evening

The fade-away – like end of movie
Makes me forget of what does pull me
And all that love, that suffer, kneeling
Would drown in night, before revealing

The new brought challenge with a smile
Given you’ll stand for in denial
Then overcome your ego self
And pull that bottle from the shelf

To dance again the beauty
Of faint and shallow duty
Of life’s grotesque mayflower
That strikes during owl hour


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