Owls

The blue house at the corner of twilight and state
Four storeys, soaring turrets, floors of wood parquet
And owls, so many owls, snowy, horned and screech
Thousands of owls, all flapping their wings
How I love the marble staircase, the claw-footed tubs
The room of rare orchids, the glass hall for my guns
Statues of pharaohs, 20 feet tall, crystal chandeliers, rare paintings of clowns
But the owls, so many owls, I’m never alone
The owls make this blue house a home
How peaceful it is to watch them soar
Through the palm-tree ballroom with its gold-paneled doors
And as I sit by the fire and slip off my boots
They perch on harpoons and the stuffed heads of moose

The apothecary closet is lined with shelves
But deeper than expected and slanted as well
How long have I been here searching for my pills
As the ceiling grows upward and the walls start to swell

Oh, the owls, the owls, with their feathers of silk
The owls they mock me and have stolen my pills

Oh the owls, the owls, with their shining green eyes
The owls will save me, if not today then tonight