THE OWL AND I

An owl stopped by one snowy night
As my dog and I walked a woodland trail.
He swooped down in his silent flight
With great broad wings and wide spread tail.

Settling softly on a glistening pine bough
Like some regal prince in robes and throne
There before me sat a great barred owl.
This patch of woods, no doubt, his home.

He blinked his eyes and turned his head.
We watched one another with thoughtful gaze
“Oooh…Who,” he suddenly said.
Then he and his call disappeared in the haze.

The woods were quiet and still again.
Only shadows slid over the snow.
There was no sound, no movement.
Then came the distant call, clear but low.

“Oooh…Who…Who.”

Imagination

Close your eyes at the shore of the sea.
Inhale the fresh salt air and feel the sails fill.
As the halyards pull tight and the bow breaks free
Hold firm the wheel that bends ship and wave to your will.

Windward lay our course to the open sea
Beyond the channel waves breaking on gull rock
Worry not for the compass marks what the heading be
Look beyond the roiling water where sky and sea interlock.

Ah, but the rigging sings a mournful tune.
T’is the chattering of the sheets as we sail close hauled.
Mind you, keep a firm hold on that wheel mate and very soon
We’ll pass beyond the wretched rock where so many ships are mauled.

There, the silent grey trunks of long dead trees
Bend upward and lean ghostlike into that strong sea breeze.
Like those shipwrecked sailors these weary sentinels still hold fast
To this God forsaken and barren rock upon whose shore their lot was cast.