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An Owl Lives In Our Tree
by Michael H. Brownstein

Some days you have to go back to who you are,
a time when a pimple on your face is so big
people move out of the way to avoid bumping it
and your hair has wings.

Day enters with a bruise and an elf owl,
the shadow of a great bird.
three crows, a rock pigeon, and a piece of rotting pizza.

Outside every tree has changed,
Every breath,
Every attempt of the house wren to chase away the herring gull.

You are only yourself the way a mud frog is only a mud frog
and the snow on the mountain melting is sunlight
and the earth is both solid and wise.
Posted by David Evans

David Evans, Feature Editor
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