by Susan Musgrave
Almost a full moon and I
am lost in the woods at midnight,
trying to find my way home.
An owl crosses my path, alights
on a branch and we stare each other
down. When I move out of his
sight his eyes follow me
anyway. We play at this, me
separated from my spirit, he
enveloping my spirit in his wings.
— from Juniper Volume 2, Issue 3