He watches. Mostly he is still. 

Only his eyes shift. 

His steadiness is astonishing.

 

Sometimes he watches the sky,

watches a raven retreat overhead

before he slips from view.

 

This poem was meant to be 

about a butterfly that hatched

from the paper chrysalis in my room.

 

How I gathered up the wet winged-one

to place her outside, gently,

on the vibrant magenta geranium.

 

But this nightjar, who sprinkles

my many nights with song, has moved

into my garden and just keeps staring.

 

I watch the butterfly. I am watched 

by the owlet. Together we are knitted

into this quiet invisible air.