Burrowing Owl
I'd never seen a burrowing owl
But knew immediately
The creature bobbing up and down,
Most surely must be he.
I sucked in breath and let it out.
I held it after that.
I thrilled to see this special owl
In natural habitat.
I didn't try to get too close.
I gave him lots of space.
I didn't want to scare him off
By getting in his face.
I walked to see him every day.
One morning I saw two.
My little owl had found a mate,
And she was out on view.
Just seeing them would stir my soul
And make my spirit soar.
Then came a time they weren't in sight.
I moved in to explore.
I found some feathers, half a wing,
And some spent shotgun shells,
And as I think about it now,
Again my anger wells.
Those owls weren't shot for feathers, food,
And not in self-defense.
This shooting had to be for fun,
Although that makes no sense.
The burrow where the two owls lived
Was but a little place.
The hole they left inside my heart
Is big as outer space.
Copyright © Jane Morton | Year Posted 2005
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