With eyes of Argus, And the wings of Kratos, The owl sits and observes. Perched perfectly on the branch, Picturesque precision protracted, As silent as the high priestess in prayer.
Her eyes dilate and contract, Like burning stars, Collapsing to be reborn, With every change in light. As Helios departs, And Selene ushers the night. And with a wingspan oh so light -
She pounces on the unwary mouse! Gripping the squealing rodent in her talons, Supper for her hungry chicks, Just born - blind but begging for flesh. She will see them grow to be the sons and daughters of Artemis.