450
ROBIN MAGOWAN
yellow-eyed, not so gifted owl of my own inmost terror. There were
two roads in the world, and the one that went down also contained
its share of wisdom, of self-knocking. At the bottom of the sea I
could be the rock.
Still I had to wait. The more I looked up, tried to, the more
I found myself looking down, immersed in one or another self-pity–
ing
pool.
Robin Magowan
Broadway and 88th Street
TR 4-9189
