Burrowing Owl Poem by Sidney Wade

Very odd,
this little cloud
in trousers
in the sandy
fortress
favored by
prairie dog
and gopher
tortoise.
On the mound
at the mouth hole,
he scouts around
with sibylline
yellow eyes
and then, owl-
wise, decides
to clean house.
He dives down
and soon
great clouds
of smudge come
flying out,
his home now
clean as a bone.
A diurnal owl,
he's upside down
and inside out
at ease
not in trees
but underground,
where his mate
broods
on her eight
fragile moons
in an immaculate
burrow whose
contours are lined
with cow manure.