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Ode to Owl Prowl

Saturday is a day like a log. It rolls this way and that, sometimes surprising you, sometimes turning over underneath you and rolling onward. Once in a while, you come across a really exciting log and find yourself not getting anywhere on your walk because so many of life's daunting conscience-bending questions can be answered by slowly to meet the rhythm of the forest where you can find it in that log. That is the Saturday where the owl picture was taken. Sometimes, you wake up and realize the floss is still trained to avoid a lip piercing that hasn't existed since you started look for other jobs, the veil falls and there are suddenly so many things about the inside of your apartment that you just didn't ever want to spend enough continuous time in it to notice.

Wherever you are, I hope you remember how to write in iambic pentameter -which you may have learned in like the seventh grade. That, ladies, germs, and non-bis, is the life line that took a turn the literary extreme. Highly recommend that as you navigate the funsies to be had within the confines of national quarantine edicts, you consider experimental thought as a time filler. For example: Could I remember how to write a sonnet for a photo, thus proving the outdoors still exist and that I was formally educated to at least the seventh grade, today? I couldn't, actually, since the iambic pentameter is the mad raves of some old weirdo with a pen, some paper, and too much free time on his hands.

But I did it anyway. Here is what I came up with for my daily poetry/writing/thought experiment challenge.

Where but in wetlands yonder was there an owl

Through wind did we sleuth without shoes muddied

For sparrows, wrens, and sunshine did we prowl

With skip in step, a Great Horned was studied

Under a nest there feathers and skulls

With size to be respected, thought raptor

Whooting on branch, I see you! Do you know?

Turning, we let be, whoos trailing after

For one good photo did that owl so deign

Later she said I could bring the pellets

Sun going down crossing back o'er that terrain

With pockets crammed like bird-nerd zealots

Still funny that the owl didn't much mind

Instant celebrity, a fun birding find!

Keeping with the theme of photo/poetry project, this is also a spectacular time to practice performing the pattern for a potential photo/poetry project! So here's that, too.

With love & nothing else,

~Rock Rat

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