POETRY

Bowl Owl Bowl

By

Eyes do amazing things. I see an owl in a wooden bowl. A thing not to be slurped, like bird's nest soup. Owls catch small animals in the dark and eat them whole, tails too. Tiny white bones are beautiful in the pellets below tall pines. Every seven-year-old knows owls are tucked and sleeping or twisting their heads around to see everything-but I can't see them, unless they are in my bowl.

Lisa J. Cihlar's poems have been published in The South Dakota Review, Green Mountains Review, In Posse Review, Blackbird, and The Prose-Poem Project. One of her poems was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her chapbook, "The Insomniac's House," is available from Dancing Girl Press and a second chapbook, "This is How She Fails," is available from Crisis Chronicles Press. She lives in rural southern Wisconsin.

Eyes do amazing things. I see an owl in a wooden bowl.