Evening calls.

3 Feb

Sitting in the cold
night air
on the cold porch,
telephone pressed to my ear,
I am distracted.
High, high above me,
calling
an owl
hoots repeatedly
calling
I try to listen to two things at once.
(and end up doing neither well)
still, it is a moment.

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2 Responses to “Evening calls.”

  1. Crafty Green poet 3 February, 2010 at 11:36 pm #

    I recognise that moment!

    • Liza Lee Miller 4 February, 2010 at 6:21 am #

      Yay! Thanks, Juliet. Poetry always feels so personal to me . . . it’s really nice to know that others see things in it that are familiar!

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