In Your Eye

 

It was no more than a small fluffy bundle on the floor of the barn, a little way from the box up in the rafters above.

But picking it up and turning the light body over, I had to extract a ferocious talon which kept catching on my jacket. Even after death, the killing kit of this ancient predator retained power.

The owlet was newly fledged – wings feathered, though not yet at full length, tail short and stumpy and white down still present all over. However, the sharp hooked beak, huge black eye and grasping feet all seemed ready to fulfil their functions.

Up close to this owl, I remembered an encounter with an adult bird high up on a beam.  Having walked into the dark barn, my eyes needed a moment to adjust. Looking down on me, a pale facial disc was slowly turning like a spotlight, apparently taking everything in. I felt caught, even trapped, although it was only a bird assessing me.  In the owl's eye I may not have been a small rodent, but the riveting stare struck deep: for a moment I was vulnerable and anchored to the spot by that sightline.

 

The Barn Owl

 

My face is in your eye and yours –

I need some time for me to see –

appears in mine.  After a pause,

 

for I have come from light outdoors

into your dark, it’s clear to me

my face is in your eye, and yours

 

takes shape.  Above the hard mud floor

your grapnel grasps me instantly.

Appears in mine after a pause

 

the raptor’s sightline, pulling more

from these white eyes that still is free.

My face is in your eye and yours

 

has frozen me.  No fight, no wars

a mouse can wage. The need to flee

appears in mine.  After a pause,

 

I turn away.  But natural laws

hold fast. Whatever else may be,

my face is in your eye, and yours

appears in mine, after a pause.

To describe this unnerving experience in which I felt momentarily like an overpowered mouse, I've used the ancient form of a villanelle.  This strange structure has rules – six three-line stanzas each alternating the refrains introduced in the first stanza and concluding with them in couplet form, etc., etc. The best example is of course Do not go gentle into that good night, in which the strictly observed rules are unnoticed.

I'm not sure why I chose to struggle with such a demanding form on this occasion.  Perhaps, as has some say, the villanelle lends itself to duality and dichotomy, or the feeling of powerlessness of the victim sought reassurance and comfort in the security of a rigid form?

It doesn't matter, of course. I just wanted to write about and share the sensation of being pinned down by a predator's eye.