The Night I Became a Barred Owl - Sam Alex

The night I became a barred owl

the moon melted over the edge of the La Cloche mountain range

first, I called out in saccharine miracle

over the web of glacial lakes, over Silver Peak

when I saw my reflection in the cold, sapphire waves

for once, in the otiose thread of my life

I was sewn

pleased

then, I followed the tarmac labyrinth towards the city

I subjugated the powerlines down rural highways

the obsidian of my eyes went diamond in stray car lights

I made my way to the windowsills of sleeping babes

and I left

for all the children who were called bad

tangerines

I watched them peel the rinds off something nourishing

that could not be bargained for or held at length