Owl
you call out
from the dusk,
an eerie song
that catches
my daughter’s ear.
Hoo-hoo
hoo
hoo
Is that death you sing of there
or a pledge to protect the souls
of the not-yet-dead?
We follow the hesitant notes
into the yard,
a chorus of insects
expanding into the empty space
while we wait.
Hoo-hoo
hoo
hoo
We know you owl,
we listen to you outside the window
sometimes, when darkness falls
but this is the first time you have shown
your tufted head.
The children creep closer
thinking they can capture the moment
with their hands
or perhaps steal a closer look
that will somehow unveil
mysteries hidden
in the shadows.
Hoo-hoo
hoo
hoo
Occupying the same fence post
as hawks and larks
a perch shared by the winged,
I wonder: if I could balance there
what would I see?
Not the play from my current spectator’s seat,
but the inherent role
that’s played inside the things
a mouse scurrying through the grass
the silent wings
that swoop down
and the talons that squeeze
our hearts
when you
depart.