The Deception

A poem after Psalm 102:6-7

And here, the Psalmist tells us
Of an owl among the ruins
And a sparrow, lonely on a house-top.
Perhaps the two should meet.
Perhaps the owl could extend
A gentleman’s offer:
Do come for tea tomorrow
At two, to my place
In the tree.
And the sparrow, sharp heart
Jittering brightly,
shuns instinct for invitation.

The owl, sophisticate, grants a tour
of his crumbling abode.
Great heaps and shards
aid the deception,
for here
there are places to shelter,
to hide,
to prove the sum to this equation:
When is alone not alone?
When there are two.
(The greatest deception of all.)

And now, the sophistry is complete:
Embraces impaled upon talons,
Artifice exposed to its sinews.
But at last, sings the sparrow, at last,
As the owl rips into the very heart of her,
I can never be lonely again.