The owl, perched high, watched from the tree,
a curious old bird was he.
Made not a sound, just looked at me.
I found a perch, too, of my own,
my wish to stay had to be shown.
He didn’t move, and nor did I.
He only blinked one ebon eye,
a silhouette against the sky.
I wondered just how long he’d stay
should I decide to spend the day.
So, there we sat, the two of us.
Spoke different tongues, could not discuss
our meeting here had happened thus.
Was he still there? I looked to see.
The owl, perched high, watched from the tree.
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