The Owls

 

The Owls

There was a cherry tree

in our garden.

One summer it held a small owl.

I was still awake when the owl called.

I had been told that owls brought bad luck.

I chose not to believe it.

It took me a while to notice

there were two of them.

to hear the overlapping calls,

one voice answering the other

across the dark.

I watched them hunt together in the evenings.

This is what love looks like, I thought.

The next year the tree was gone.

It had been dying, they said.

The owls moved to the oak next door.

I could still hear them.

This is what forever is like, I thought.

We went back every summer.

Time seemed to stand still.

Then cracks appeared in the walls.

More trees went.

Not the neighbour's oak.

It grew strong and steady, 

still holding the owls in its crown.

GloPoWriMo Day20