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Young, George, 1938- / Bird of paradise: poetry
(2011)

Abyss,   p. 16


Page 16

Abyss
(for Greg)
Owlwise into owl-light one day
you came,
sauntering beneath a giant cottonwood,
and looking up
surprised its presence
sitting on a branch looking down at you.
Your eyes locked. Someone threw away
the key. And in that forever
you stared
into, that black abyss of owl-space, you found
no moon,
no stars-only cold infinity.
And what did
the owl-other find in your eyes to make it dive
off the branch, glide, silent, away?
16


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