Vigilant, Sphinx-like, perched
high among spruce branches,
solemn searchlight brown eyes
pierce viscous darkness for barely
visible frogs, crayfish, voles and snakes.
Hoohoo-hoohoo, hoohoo-hooohooooaw
haunts the night air, draws me deep
into shadowy woods. “Who cooks for you,
who cooks for you-all” sounds mysterious,
profound. Who’s in my kitchen, I wonder.
Hard wired instinct of muscle and feathers,
owls are sovereign over sage mnemonics.
We’ve conflated concentration
with intuition, visual acuity with wisdom,
wondering why we aren’t any wiser.
Photo courtesy of Wendy Rosenberg
