The first owl that I saw here actually
Was dead. A small Brown on its back
In the grass wings splayed next to the
Street. Killed by crows, I guessed, or
The thing about a dog is how I spend
A lot of time more time outside at dawn
And dusk. He takes these matters seriously.
I had already learned to look
For owls at these times at these times,
To listen for the the trilling of
The Browns before they took flight,
Or in the morning on returning from
The sky, no matter what the alterations
Humans have imposed on it, is always
Just so good to look at in the morning.
The end of the universe is out there.
On the morning of Election Day 2008
Anxious to go vote, I saw a Great Horned
Owl spring out of a tree as I passed under it
And swoop off into darkness. I took it
For a good sign.
Today I listened to the trilling of the Browns,
And take it as a good sign
That a Great Horned Owl flew
Out of the dark sky to perch
Above our heads. Even if
It was only an owl, that alone
Is a good sign.