Hedwig

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Into the castle grounds
comes the courier
and the Dark Lord himself
tonight prevails, prevents
all messages from entering,
adding danger upon danger
and terror to the skies!

Onwards the white owl flies,
from rampart to icy rampart,
into the conjured snow,
against irresistible
back-turning malevolent winds,
how they measure
the determined beats
of his loyal, weathered,
pale outstretched wings.

These protected castle walls,
with broken ledges unlandable
and windows as slippery
as Slytherins turned red-faced
from rained counter charms;
so tossed once more to the
rump of the tower grounds.

Yet, some things do swerve
past the evil minded defenses
time after time again to be
repeated in cheered sentences,
qualities of hope, friendship,
fine feathers and

“You do exaggerate, Hedwig.
This is the Dursley’s!”

coughed Harry shutting out the hail,
three groupie sparrows,
a robin interpreting every word,
two tawny teenage owls,
and a puffed-up boasting bird.

And to continue with this tale
of what safely did land
(I’m sure you understand)
a wet, Gryphindor owl,
and a soaked note from Ron,
carefully flattened to dry out entire
by an electric muggle fire.

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