National Poetry Writing Month Three

Prompt

I was promised baby owls

In the backyard
our new neighbor gushed
a mating pair nested every Spring
which tree I wondered and hoped
not the one tipped in the storm
so crashing we felt lightning-struck

Mostly dead trees with awfully dead limbs
we texted the damage done to the landlord
when the laurel trunk dented the gutter and roof
of the house she bought next door to her sister
living in a ranch with equal decay
where she imagines eventually retiring

"We're roommates," she gushed
when she stayed the week
in the basement bedroom
between Christmas and New Year's
which we accepted tolerant at first
their failing father so near to dying

However, year two was too much again
such a light sleeper my spouse
he tracks troubled dreams swarming underneath
lies awake suffering the hooting
of the pair who visit but never stay
only flying through mostly at dusk