Archives :: Taylor Graham

Athena Considers Dawn

Appeared in the Winter 2005 issue.

I never said your cat died—
no matter what you might infer
from the owl’s call,
a bird which some old poet
likened to me.

I simply piped four interrupted
chords in the dark,
such sounds a sleeper might wake to,
and think owl
and wonder at his life.

Does this make me responsible
for everything that wings
do? I’m tired
of your dreams
extrapolating consequence
from myth.

By chance your cat fit
neatly taloned, black
into midnight with her moon-
eyes. Afterward,
I heard an owl’s cry,

but it sounded so very human
as it fed on loss.

That’s not what dawn
is about.

View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.