It's just poetry, it won't bite


01.01.17 Posted in today's words by

By James McElroy

In the advent of the year,
a large owl showed up
and sat, lodged, in
an off-lemon yew along
the small path at Westernness.

It was Sunday, I think,
and the neighbors flocked
to the base of the tree,
trying to get a better
view of those forward-
facing eyes and the
insouciance with which
the bird peered down
at its congregants.

Someone said
Great Horned Owls
have been known to prey
on all kinds of birds and
mammals (including cats
and dogs), so people
slowly started to head
back home to check on their pets.

When the bird was
finally left to its own
devices, it slowly began to
chant according to the
psalter of its own species,
waiting at the end of each
riff for something—a soul
mate, perhaps?—to answer
back in the loneliness of whooo . . .

One Response to “Advent”

  1. Wonderful character poem. I like story with details about the setting that is anchored in the description of an owl. And the title is fitting. When something new arrives like a Great Horned Owl, it certainly makes one think about what is to come…and it inspires great respect for all creatures. Love the lonely ending….whooooo. Who?

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