David Floren

Slow Recognition

Frost whitens my window.
Shadow glides past – barred owl?
The brow of the pane swallows it.

Certain as frost! My first
Impression darkens. The low sun—
The brow of the sea lowers it.

“Towards a Barred Owl”
Ghost-written by recognition
The brow of the frown conceals it.

Broad chest. Stripes. Patterned flight.
Barred owl, pane to pane.
The brow of the smile reveals it.


[9/15/04 Santa Rosa, CA]

Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 10, 2008

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