Owls and Dogs

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

West Nile.

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

Their hunts.

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.

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