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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 75

The Owl, The Manatee, and the Flea

There is an owl in a willow tree 
To whom it prays I cannot see

It’s dark and her prayers 
  are not for me

I’ll let her be

And if you ask of the manatee,
ask how she bestows 
	her piety 

I’ll say her prayers salt the sea

Just look at the history of a single flea
In all it’s singularity, and you will see

a tiny spec of 


  Frank Murphy