The Owl

The Owl

An old man woke one morning
To an owl calling Who?

He lay very still
His body the answer

The lawyer drove out in the afternoon
They sat at the kitchen table

Going over the will
The son he hadn’t spoken to

In years he put back in
What the other two would get

Shrunk with a stroke of the pen
The lawyer didn’t ask him

What had changed
Wasn’t his business

But when he shook his hand
He shook it like you should

When it’s the last time