These We'Ll Yet Destroy
Two owls charmed me
moments before I embarked
on the hours of industry to come.
Their silhouettes were dark and secretive,
their voices wistful and low.
I had a moment only to be soothed
with no thought to the truer meaning,
sinister and cruel,
of their flight from industry to come.
Mere yards from where I sleep
the tree has grown large
much like its older cousin
mere yards from where I brood.
The loeries return
to a place that may once have been theirs,
and they speak with voices
almost as those of children.
They charm me as the owls.
In the small fertile garden
among acres of mortar and stone
and grass largely ignored,
I may see with fortune
the frog that enchants me,
the spider that does not much haunt me,
the serpent that surely does.
The Indian myna, relentless, imperious,
will not be denied.
The idiosyncrasies, kind and mean,
gave them form and breath and motion,
and domain, before our domain.
26th July 2018
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