Omen

Birds of ill omen
appearing in Poe or
as a Shakespearean
foreshadow of gloom
or in owlish augury in
legends of King Arthur
are not always black
but often are. I don't
believe in omens, ill or
otherwise, but if I did,
the feathered friend
who flew atop my car and
stayed to have his photo
made seemed a
harbinger of happiness,
not dread, and maybe due,
subliminally, to the cheery
whiteness of his wings.
But later on today,
and further north but not
by all that much, a man
who was far too young to die,
is dead, and I am wondering
if his mother saw an owl
last night or heard a raven cry
or if my visitor was meant
for her, got lost, and left
her unprepared for this
unprecedented, tragic afternoon.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014