Tuesday, March 01, 2016

Impossible!

"Impossible!" the owl exclaimed. "Not done!
We haven't cleared it with the lawyers, priests,
And government officials, or the beasts
Who warned us they would hammer anyone
That did it." I was sleeping in the sun
When I was woken by the arrivistes
And told to dress up for midsummer feasts
And reckonings. They said they had a gun.

The owl was not unhappy, in the end;
Victuals were good, the bad decisions few,
The weather fine, and underneath the yew
A woman stood, who claimed to be our friend.
A stream will flow, a willow tree will bend,
And nothing is impossible, or new.

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