Aubrey Rasmussen

The Owl Listened

“I haven’t been here in a while.” I said softly, as I brushed thin layers of collected snow from your headstones. “It’s been….a long year.” I knelt for a moment, tracing the outlines of your names on the markers. Satisfied, I stood, made my way to the stone bench, and sat, exhausted. The weight of the day, the week, the year, settling itself onto my shoulders. I breathed in the night air, acknowledging the cold prickles that filled my lungs, and began. As I spoke, a young barn owl circled softly overhead. I watched it, and continued speaking.