The Poetry Kit

Competitions

Courses

Events

Funding

How-to Books

Magazines

Organisations

Poets

Publishers

Who's Who

Workshops

Home

Search

 

  Mike Estabrook
   
     

OWL

 

Donít know what made me look up

into the canopy of pines trees

at that exact moment, I didnít

hear anything or see anything,

was simply walking through

the snow with my dog when suddenly

I looked up and there high up

on a branch at the top

of one of those swaying pine trees

was an owl, a gray-brown creature

stiff as a statue of Mercury or Achilles,

not looking at me,

simply sitting

high up in a pine tree,

not doing anything in particular,

simply sitting there on a branch existing,

just like the rest of us.


 



Back   Next