THE OWL

I sat in downtown Los Angeles on the porch step, when a beautiful white owl flew over.

It perched on a telephone pole and watched me for awhile. When it flew over me it was pure white, white as snow underneath. When it folded it's wings, it's color changed, it was darker, it's back seemed to be tainted, as It flew over the trees

When it flew away I watched to see where it would go, it flew to the peak of the roof, it watched me as i studied it.

As I got up ready to leave it it buzzed me again, I felt so happy and excited to see such a free spirit surviving against the odds of civilization, I watched her fly away and I realized I would never see her again, and that I loved her so much

This Poem Was Written by Carlas husband's Dan Jones on 2/2/87 and dedicated to his wife Carla!!