Sport 40: 2012
Owls
Owls
This poem tried on
a garrulous fountain,
its big-deal diamonds,
the way it fell apart, and
adhered to the path
with the spillage of light,
its slippery leaves,
how nice it was to me;
But now it appears
there’s an owl amongst
the meadowlarks,
! an owl inside every
meadowlark !
and they aren’t known for knowledge
for nothing.