Barred owl sat just there on a branch.
For long moments we surveyed each other
our eyes intent one upon the other
before he turned slightly and in no sort
of rush flew off. Perturbed, I thought,
that I did not move along first.
Owls have such a stern look to them.
But now I’m told that owls are thought
to be spirits who look in on us
holy cross-overs, souls of loved ones
checking on our wellbeing.
Next time I’ll say, I’m good.
I’m happy. I’m whole.
But do come again.
