Poem: Incidental Avian Poetry

Owl-Lou-Encia was the name I chose.
Small brown spotted owl sleeping
One eye open… or closed,
Depends on your personal taking.
Everyone reveres Nature out of place,
And discusses its well-being and purpose.
Under the eaves on a bent drain pipe
Its obvious intention of quiet repose,
Interrupted…

"Featherless bipeds laugh in my dreams.
They stand around too heavy for the air
And blow smoke from their soft beaks.
They look like ants from up there.
If not bugs and mice,
Then what do they eat?"

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