Call Of The Owl Poem by Zyw Zywa

It starts in the little square
in the evening. Fresh air
The palms relax

Soft light from oil lamps
An owl calls, the snake-
charmer opens the baskets

blowing his whistle. Turmoil in the trees
a bird paradise. Slim
boys stretch themselves

The drum brings the wheel
in motion, a spider prince
puts his arms and legs

down on the tones of the flute
and dances around the time wheel
The snakes are raising

Just before I fall asleep
rolled up in my basket
the owl calls again