The prey

Poem by Dag Máhtenjárga

Dáhpeluoakta is the name
of the land where I live
bay of murderer
-an eon past;
still you may see
when the moon is right
the bay all bloody
-on wintery nights

I witness daily
the deadly fight
between predators
and prey, in the dead of night

I’ve never witnessed
the heinous fight
between wings of turbines
and preys in flight

which would you reckon
the murder most fowl;
the wings of a turbine
-or the claws of an owl?

Illustration: “Bubo Bubo”, by Christina Fjeldavli

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