Last week I was on an evening run and heard an owl in the woods. I somehow managed to spot him on a high branch, which was surprising given my poor track record of seeing wildlife. I love owls. I can’t hear them without thinking of camping trips or the cool green Wisconsin woods. Owls always appear so nonchalant and composed, unlike their chirping, flitting daytime cousins.

Today’s poem is about an encounter with an owl: “If the Owl Calls Again” by John Haines. Find it here.