Expectancy

the owl refuses to dispense any wisdom
but has a few questions of its own:

what exactly is your elegant emergency?
the wrench in your otherwise outstanding plan?

the owl’s eyes are neon. the tree he inhabits
so lovely & upright & full of its own spine

it is almost unbearable. so sure of its roots.
don’t ask how much time you have left.

ask if you are fully enjoying your tiny house
of secrets & sacred truths, because you know

we all betray ourselves somewhere. don’t ask
about years. ask what any animal is thinking

as it becomes the owl’s dinner. ask about the blur,
the sudden shrinking view of outer space

you see while on your back in a musty tent,
the ceiling of which has been cut into

to allow some windows of sky.