That was not my own death

swooping down the mountain

but a big bird maybe a condor

dropping through the wraiths of mist as frictionless as a shadow

Maybe it was a great horned owl

do they do that?  Or is it only over fields

as silent only in winter white as a new soul

off a limb: pounce

not the high altitude antics of a raptor or a ghost

maybe a falcon

except they don’t get so big do they

and not a ghost because ghosts are not exactly the same

as spirits

or souls

they are to spirits and souls the way a condor

is to a kestrel or a marsh hawk

and an owl well that is more like a persona

or the living aura of a person that lives on

in a house in a woods

not white in winter but probably blue

as the shadows in the snow

where the cold mouse believes

If I just act dead

August 9, 2009