Pleasure

is so hard to remember. It goes

like the pinfeathers that drop from the geese
roosting all day around the hot springs.

Or like the regurgitated owl pellets
that litter the ground under the tree

where the great horned owl
has roosted since six twenty-two this morning.

Cast off the plant matter, bones, fur, feathers,
bills, claws, and teeth from last night’s meal.

Yes, like the owl pellet.

Purged from the gullet
to be shriven,

so that in an act of grace
it can return.