The Liquid Owl

It was such a little thing
As I held it. Between
My fingers. It felt like
Well…what it was

Much smaller than the shelf
It stood upon, it seemed
The cornerstone of the shop
It occupied near the Mediterranean
Sea that I painted earlier

That day inspired
By an expansive Aganippe,
Blue, as this thing I shifted
To my palm lined with strokes;

Pigment residue of a hue
Bold in its pretension
To capture a view
Of a liquid that moves
In a tempo with its muse.

But like this porcelain owl
With eyes that reflect light
Time alone will determine
If I’ve pictured it right

by Dan Ramirez

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