The road paved in ice
and that damn owl
playing hopscotch
on the roof all night.
The room too warm,
the smell of snow
came in a cracked
window at three,
such an unbecoming
hour, and it seems
there will never
be enough– I mean,
there isn’t
a leap or reach
that isn’t preface
to a landing.
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Love the image of an owl playing hopscotch on the roof! Engages the readers ears and made me think of feet scuffling against slate!
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Thank you! It’s a great horned owl I think, not a very dainty bird…
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I love this whole thing. I could use more snow and owls about niw, so thsnk you. Last four lines are brilliant.
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Please correct bad iphone mis-spells!
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Drew me in pretty good. lol hopscotching owls….so vivid.
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Thanks for reading!
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