It would have to be
perfect timing it’s
completely unheard of
wouldn’t it be a magical
occurrence smaller odds
than a lucky lottery ticket
a little spooky it is
impossible to imagine it
would be difficult to photograph
while flying a helicopter
while fighting a fire while
dumping water on flames
on the forest below it would
need to be flying at just the right
speed it requires the same speed
to fly under those blades
a miracle of navigation to make
it inside to land on the seat
back right next to the pilot
who said he was startled
who said please to the owl
please don’t attack me
the owl staring at him perched
silent beside him such a chill
co-pilot must have given
the pilot some seconds of
breath-stopping wonder
flown out of a furnace
of flames the sky blinded
by smoke filled with deafening
engines of wind-whipping
copters the owl sat observing
a couple more water dumps
dropped over the treetops
then left the way it came
according to the pilot
who had snapped a photo
from inside the cockpit
later showed a reporter
which of course made
the news we were California
on fire incinerating for weeks
particulate deaths in the air—
I bought an air purifier.
Later I saw the owl’s photo
online steady eyes yellow
caught there in the lens
lucky moment before it flew
back out into it what did it
know did it know there would be
no real escape for any of us?
This poem first appeared in Listening to Mars (Cornerstone Press, 2024).
—
Former Santa Clara County Poet Laureate Sally Ashton is a writer, teacher, and editor of DMQ Review, an online journal featuring poetry and art. Author of five books including most recently Listening to Mars, she specializes in brief forms across genres. One of her poems is headed to the Moon and beyond in 2025. www.sallyashton.com
