Intercalary Day #1

A barn owl perched on an old tire in the alley
Arrests my vision as I pull up with the ice cream.
I park and then run to face the chain-link.
It wobbles and extends its wings, showing no obvious injuries
Or missing feathers.

Defeated, it hangs its head low and shakes it, ponderously
Back and forth, as if in mourning.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
I get a creepy feeling and run to get my husband.
The barn owl dives, awkwardly and pathetically,
Into the cover of a stand of weeds.

Nature.
Best to just let it do what it will do.
The Internet says it could be an adolescent
Pushed out of the nest by its parents
In order to force it to fly.
I try to withdraw my creepy feeling that this is
All My Fault, attributable to my agreement with the
Brown air and horrible concrete and non-native trees.

As much as I attempt to love
This anthropocene,
It’s hard to see a pretty barn owl suffering in
Such an eyesore of a landscape.
A dead owl in a primeval forest,
Now that would have the touch of the mythic,
That experience could be something enriching and cathartic.
But a sad owl in this weedy wasteland hurts the soul.

“Who am I kidding?”
I tell my creepy feeling.
“That owl probably eats like a king, the alley is full of rats!
And who’s going to bother a grounded owl?
A coyote?”
But still I wait for some light to break in to tell what this
Barn owl has to do with me.

At night I notice that the Bird of Paradise is touching me
With its leaves.
It feels just like a familiar friend has
Rested a hand upon my shoulder.
I peep through the telephone vines,
Lush with green hearts, that frame
The statue of Osiris.
I put out a plate of
Cucumbers and cut green things.
The scent of Sandarac drifts on the air.

The god that lives inside the little statue
Smiles on our offering.
Osiris always makes me think of
Ishmael Reed’s novel Mumbo Jumbo,
And the dance craze Jes Grew,
The virus that makes everyone jive and fuck.

I apologize to Osiris
In my mind,
For always getting to these holidays on the wrong day.
He laughs (also in my mind) and says
Being in my body is honoring him,
Taking time out for sex is honoring him.
The yoga teacher is saying, “It’s time to
Remember the intention you sent out
At the beginning of the class.”
I’m lying in savasana and Osiris is
Opening his big green heart to me.

Barn owls were temple birds in ancient Egypt.
You can see their outline on the hieroglyph for the
Letter M.
Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm.