(a lot more things to come, but for now only this...)

The Owl

by ivan morales

Alone was I when it came through the glass,

"Where am I?", thought my mind before much time could pass,

a shape had come out, I couldn't tell what it was,

but I knew it was real, and the room began to turn.

It halted and what was, was not no more.

Liquid color with bright sounds, decorated every wall.

And so soon as now those walls, where oh! so tall.

the shape began to speak, it spoke in words...

I'm pretty sure, but nothing seemed to make some sense.

Up got it, and to my side it crawled,

And to my amazement, I suddenly just yawned.

The thing got swallowed, sucked, more like it.

I don't know yet, but I think it was frightened.

Before my words could say a vowel,

that big dumb thing, turned into an owl.

Slowly it spoke, and wisely it expressed,

how everything is real (and how badly I was dressed),

As high as the wind can colorfully travel,

I knew it began, that trouble would unravel.

My mind was blown, and the owl departed

and then is when I knew, that over it was,

before it started...