owl that

owl that

owl that sits upon my stove
i pet with loving hand ungloved
she coos and stirs but is unmoved
her gaze of glass is total proof

owl that soars into the night
i cower from but give no thought
she comes to rest upon a bough
her flightless form still held aloft

owl that sounds but is unseen
i answer with this broken rhyme
she sits and makes a night her throne
her humor makes my head her home