Sitting in the tree, high up in the pine,
watching all who pass thru the cemetery line
Sat one lone owl braving winters wrath,
Sitting all alone, watching all in its path.
Huddled in the frigid air my brothers and I
were trying to cope with the fact
our mother did die.
The preacher said some words
before her casket went in the ground.
It was freezing cold,
I doubt if any of us heard a sound.
The owl watched us go through the motions
from the distance in the tree.
Somehow that owl brought great comfort to me.