Arthur Sze - The Owl

The path was purple in the dusk.
I saw an owl, perched,
on a branch.

And when the owl stirred, a fine dust
fell from its wings. I was
silent then. And felt

the owl quaver. And at dawn, waking,
the path was green in the
May light.

Arthur Sze

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-owl-6/