owl flat face pale ghost, silent
owl in the nighttime
she moves above the houses
amongst the nodding trees
it is i who calls your name
soft, persistent
so the others won’t hear
owl moves amongst the secrets of the forming berries
what tells them how to burgeon and when?
you stir but do not wake
the sound to you is simple:
simple as the breath in sleep
and just as much a part
i call you to the place
the other side of time
where there is no you
there is no me
there is no owl
no promise of tomorrow
no shadow of the past
not even the space in which
the earth turns about the universe
taking off her hat
to the stars

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