‘Noname’

The moon sits on the owl’s shoulder.

The moon sits on the mountain’s shoulder

On this most unnatural night

As I feel my way among the images.

The owl is made of fire,

There is fire inside the owl,

His feathers sparkle with it.

There is fire within the tree.

The images blur and coalesce

With moon, owl and fire

Until there is nothing,

No image at all.

In the dark clear light of blankness

Only the sound of the owl: When?

When will the images coalesce?

Being a seer with no sight,

Being a god with no right,

Being a bird with no flight

Is damned hard work.

If I had known it was like this

I wouldn’t have gotten into the racket.

Richard C. Richards, circa 1970

From ‘Poems That Almost Got Away‘, published by Healing Time Books, is available on Amazon.com

[amazon_link asins=’1535300299′ template=’ProductAd’ store=’htb-bookstore-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’3aea45ad-129c-11e8-a70a-6f7ecc1bb68a’]