An Owl Upon A Fragile Branch

an owl upon a fragile branch

of a distant tree, invited me

to rest beneath the shade of leaves

where no brash light could shine,

the beating heat would not retreat

til each by each, the hanging fleet,

all sunk off the line

each by each they all went down

each by each they all did drown

the owl upon the fragile branch

never fell by wind or chance

and propped his wings in pride to say

he knew the leaves would fall that day

his invitation was for play

he thought himself so wise.

Poseidon’s rage, most sailors know

the sky does change and leaves regrow

the owl was proud and blushed with fame

and not concerned by touch of rain

but lightning strikes from clouds diverse

from black and white it does emerge

when chance meets fate along the road

then shame does pay what pride is owed

the leaves he teased

became his bed

the branch had snapped

the owl was dead