Walking my spaniel
at twilight–
down the hill, in back of
the house, the day lilies’

last gasps dangle

over one neighbor’s
stone embankment.

Not even the dog notices
the two owls flying 
just a little above our heads–

only silence

on this slow humid evening,

I see their   w i n g s p a n
one on top of the other,
almost touching–
dodging pine tree

The owls disappear
     into a fog
          of smoky green mist.