Barred Owl on the Road

by Barbara Brooks

It looked like a rock
until it swiveled its head,
yellow eyes looking at me.
It was sitting on
the side of the road, its drab
wings brushing the ground.

I leaned down to pick
it up, its talons softly
grabbed my arm, its

barred wings fluttered
in the wind of the passing
cars.  It clung to my arm.

I tried to cover it with a
bag.  It flew instead.