Self-Portrait as Hoot Owl
Who do you think I am, what will
grace serve, where in this moonless
void might you lie, can we echo
through the hours and never attach
ourselves to one discernable tree?
Is query my only song? Is sadness
yours? Wrapped around these
priceless silhouettes, our voices
merge downhill near the creek’s
rustle, below the seeping clouds
and stars yet somehow above the
night and tomorrow’s slow ascent
into more questions, more doubt.
* * *
“Self-Portrait as Hoot Owl” first appeared in Issue 125 of Right Hand Pointing. Thank you to editors Dale Wisely, Laura M. Kaminski, F. John Sharp and José Angel Araguz for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
well conceived and executed. 🙂
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Thank you, sir!
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Questions – particularly those of the who-am-I? variety are a LOT more engaging than answers (though granted, most answers to such questions generate a string of new questions to intrigue …)
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That, and answers often pop up in the form of questions (at least in my feeble mind). 🙂
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Robert,
Your work was shared at the Go Dog Go Cafe today and I hope you can stop by and take a look!
https://godoggocafe.com/2020/02/13/promote-a-poet-writer-thursday-february-13-2020/comment-page-1/#comment-43953
Stephen
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Thanks for letting me know, Stephen. I’m honored.
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We are honored to have you. 🤓🙏🙏🙏🤓
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Wow! The pace really moves along in this one!
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A little change in pace is good sometimes, don’t you think? This one seemed to demand movement.
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Of course you are right, Robert. The intuitions of a master are always right 🙂 I feel this to be true as the pace sweeps me along, insinuating itself as value added at every step 🙂
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