Owls… like death…arrive unannounced and gobble their victims whole. – Scott Russell Sanders
Driving home one freezing night, wind chill well
Below zero, I’ve but one switchback to go
When something catches my eye, then there’s the thump.
And I stop. Heart racing, fearing what I’d find,
I open the door, snow and wind stinging my
Face, stepping out onto the darkened hillside,
Walking to the back of the car, where in the red glow
A screech owl awaits, sitting beside the road, looking up at me.
Unsure if she’s hurt, wondering how to help an
Injured owl, I bend over and gently pick her up.
Holding her in my hands, I look into her eyes
And she looks into mine, and all else stops.
She sees deep into darkness, as if the sun never sets
On her world, where everything is revealed. Her
Elongated gaze peers into my eyes, my fault
Lines shift, the world rearranges, and I’m adrift
On a windy hillside, knowing everything’s exposed,
Foundations suddenly unstable, footing unsure –
I have no grounding for this. The wind rustles her
Feathers, she shakes herself, then leaps from my hands
And soars down the hill as if my car hadn’t halted her,
As if I hadn’t held her, as If she never peered into my eyes,
As if things would be the same. She flew into the darkness
As I stood in the ruddy light, shaking in the wind and snow.
