OWL HAND




I sleep
in a tree
my wrist an elegant branch that
—going nowhere—
has little pulse or wealth

I wake
at last
with the beautiful curious sense
your owl is above
the shadow of an owl

Comments

This is so especially good. I keep studying it, to unlock its mysteries. The hands are clasped entreatingly, beseechingly. Perhaps this is a "Seech Owl."

"She looked out the window, listened to the hoot owl, and prayed for all concerned." —Eric Ware, The Hollywood Colored, 2004