World

by o on July 31, 2006

a room full of people whose eyes have not met.
all the trees in the yard whose names are unknown.
the stranger that  moved to town is a recluse.
everybody’s friendly curiosity turns suspicious,
then hostile.  time is to know the world.
look out the window:
perched on a snowy branch of white pine
the owl’s yellow eyes stare at you for hours
before you realize.

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