The owls weren’t in distress, although
I thought they sounded like it, calling out so much
in daylight. Barred owls:
Who cooks for you? is how you write the call,
I looked it up.
They were so close it sounded like they were in the house,
like six owls just went off at once out there, you said.
A false spring.
The daffodils were almost blown,
snow was on the way.
Left to desire, we did.























