Natural Enemies

all day the owl is dreaming of a crow, dreaming
of a crow, dreaming of a crow and his war caw
rushing through the pines, and the owl opens
her mouth as if to say wait, wait until nightfall,
until nightfall when the crow’s own blackness
is not enough to hide him from her keen eyes.

all night the crow is dreaming of an owl, dreaming
of an owl, dreaming of an owl and battle screech
so close it could run through his dark body and sever
his spine. his mouth moves in silence: wait, wait
until daybreak when the owl’s gray camouflage
cannot protect her from the murders of crows.

in twilight the owl and crow are praying to live, praying
to live, praying to live the long hours of hunting. they do
not fly nor tempt the other into the unowned time
and orange territory of conflicted light. they bide, bide
in their pine churches with their psalms to a god
who would favor their feathers over the other’s.

Copyright © 2008 J. P. Dancing Bear All rights reserved
from Conflicted Light
Salmon Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission