Barred Owl
All summer long a barred owl hooted outside,
keeping me company during the sleepless times.
Friday morning I found him on Chicopee Row, recently hit.
As I gathered him up,
he opened his eyes one last time,
seeing me.
Later that afternoon-
I took him to his final resting place
on a hill where 3 oak trees grow
together as one.
The silent nights are lonely without his call.
Deborah Santoro
Published by Deborah Santoro
My work deals with themes of human and nonhuman intelligence, and what it means to return home when the nature of home itself is nebulous and undefined. As an interdisciplinary artist with homebases in painting and printmaking, I explore the interstitial spaces between these and other media, relishing the borderlands–the slippage between idea and medium. Lens based ways of looking interact with a fierce love of materiality that echoes the earth itself, and the ways in which humanity interacts with the homeostatic systems that comprise Gaia, the living earth.
View all posts by Deborah Santoro
Deborah Santoro 