Growth and Governance
by Erin Robertson
Friends of Coal Creek Writer in Residence

Great Horned Owl sits in her leafy nest,
alone on an island of trees.
Ear tufts trembling in the wind,
she contemplates this rolling field all day.
Does she wonder what her owlets will encounter
when each emerges from
the dark, discrete orb
she carefully cultivates with her body’s heat?
Will there still be plump mice to hunt,
blue air to breathe,
the quiet rustle of grass in the field?
Will they wing their way to the pine trees someday?
Or will they blink their huge golden eyes
in silent confusion at blacktop-sealed closed-off earth,
a steady stream of noisy cars,
bright lights at night stealing the stars?
If she prays, might she summon
a whirlwind with her wings
to scatter the machines before they dig,
to hold onto her unroofed heaven one more day?