Monday, September 5, 2011

How To Find An Owl

Tack up your horse
Ride out on a green-grey morning
With a chance of rain
Into the woods
Mind the deer
Gallop up a hill
Trot a long trail
Cross the road
Trot half the field
Canter the other
on the left lead
Go slow by the men building
the big house in the clearing
Tell Joe to never mind that noise
Its only a drill . . .
Laugh, at your joke
the joke that only your horse heard
Admit your tired
Walk for a while
But jump the log and trot all the way
to the dry river
Cross the thirsty rocks
imagining a current of green water
not a stagnant puddle
not dust
Jog up the bank
Mind the deer
Hear the crows
They are loud
Caw, caw, caw, caw!
Trot toward the crows
Hear the Blue Jay
Jay, jay, jay, jay!
Wonder
Are the crows mobbing the jay?
Is the jay mobbing the crows?
Pull up going down hill
Look up
See the crows dispersing
Count the crows
Five, six, seven?
Oh, eight!
Hear the jay again
Find the jay
See him dive bomb
Ask yourself
The crows are gone?
What’s that crazy jay doing?
See the jay fly back to the river
Notice the quiet
Silence after crows is a jewel
Cross the little dry tributary
Decide
Left?
Or
Right?
oh, go right . . .
Pat your horse
Trot again
Look up
Hear a whoomp
a whoomp whoomp whoomp
of wings against a big body
And see the owl
in his grey flannel suit
disappear up the ridge
Where the poplars are giving way
to September,
to gold . . .

2 comments:

T.S. Dogfish said...

Your poem does justice to the eternal zenlike mystery of owls. They are always present even when they're not obvious; they are part of the poem even when the poem is minding deer and ignoring drills.

ponygirlnmh said...

Lovely.
It captures the essence of riding out-and the mystery of owls.