Arthur Sze


The Owl - Poem by Arthur Sze

The path was purple in the dusk.
I saw an owl, perched,
on a branch.

And when the owl stirred, a fine dust
fell from its wings. I was
silent then. And felt

the owl quaver. And at dawn, waking,
the path was green in the
May light.


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Read poems about / on: purple, green, light



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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