When Beneath Owls Eyes

Jerald Wild

When beneath owls eyes I put her in the ground
And go off over hillsides
Carrying shovel and gun,
Tears will not cleanse the wound
When they fall like glass slivers
And become wedged into the folds
Which she made in my face.

And I will place my gun on a shelf
And watch from beneath the sheets
As it drips down
Into the hands 
And sacred mouth
Of someone I will find
And then try to love.