Poetry in Motion
The OwlArthur Sze
The path was purple in the dusk.
I saw an owl, perched,
on a branch.
And when the owl stirred, a fine dust
fell from its wings. I was
silent then. And felt
the owl quaver. And at dawn, waking,
the path was green in the
This poem appears in Arthur Sze's collectionThe Redshifting Web: Poems 1970-1998 (Copper Canyon Press, 1998).
The Guardian Angel (2018) © Armando Mariño, MTA LIRR Brentwood Station.
Commissioned by MTA Arts & Design.
You can purchase the volume here.