about | books | home    
       
     
  Screech Owls

Like those electric fans

your grandmother in summer

propped on her kitchen counter,

or the hinges on the tool shed

door where you tore

your sleeve reaching for a rake:

the insistent, predictable

intervals of twenty seconds

come down from the hill.

From the thick firs along

the road, an answer, louder

and more urgent, building

to crescendo until

on silent wings you know

she’s floating

over the neighbor’s

gabled house, dark,

except for the blue tube flickering

through the window.

The stand of pines behind

their yard, you quick

flick on to amber, the two

with talons wrapped

on a branch and wings half-

cocked, shocked into paralysis,

they can’t decide to stay or go.

more poems
—Jen Bryant (originally published in Smartish Pace, issue 12)
Copyright © Jen Bryant. Poems may not be reproduced or republished in any form without permission.
Contact Jen Bryant Jen Bryant's Blog Jen Bryant on Facebook Jen Bryant on Instagram Jen Bryant on Wikipedia
    Copyright © 2006- Jen Bryant. All rights reserved. No images or content on these pages
may be reproduced or republished in any form without permission. Privacy Policy. Site designed by Winding Oak.