Barn Owls and road kill

Ashridge place of trees and forest
A realness and actuality
I met an owl called Bertie there
A barn owl of repute
Her heart shaped face
Her ebony eyes
A soft white downy suit

SHe flew close by my windscreen
As I drove my car
A feathered ghostly apparition
Coming from afar
Bacteria on her feathers
Gave her a lit up look
Sort of like those luminous dials
Inside of me, I shook
And shivered not surprisingly
And a long low shreik I heard
Was this the sound of this small owl
And Was it from any bird?

A sort of hissing snake like sound
In the rich moon light
A golden ruff of feathers
Her legs were sparkling white
She stared down into my eyes
In a moment in a gaze
A totem could it possible be
Swooping down and then did raise
Suddenly to take another bird
A passing phase

Swallowed whole feathers and all
And all done soundlessly
Nothing really will ever make
Me forget what I did see
As barn owls are being killed off
By rat poisoning, they be
Also Knocked down on the roads at
Night
From drivers who fail to see

Their ghostly forms emerging
And flying close to where
The driver might just fail to see
Tired and unaware
Ashridge boasts a heavenly place
Where Birch Oak and the thorns
Straggle over chalky down
And the speed limit warns
Drivers if they cared to see
The nocturnal spirits there
Instead foot down acceleration
And dead souls lost who share

Road kill is now everywhere
Cut down in pure flight
Or crushed and broken by the tyres
A spirit bold and light
Who tore into your spot light path
And lost its precious way
Out of where it came from
Into how we make them pay
Squashed and broken dying
Out there in the forest dark
What a wasted beauty
Whose life and death was stark