Past Dusk
from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice
How did it get to be night outside? The day just started, and now it is almost over. May I not leap in thought towards tomorrow but rather luxuriate in this dark– this soothing, quiet, gentle end. When I lie down in the light, I’m not likely to sleep. But now, in this sweet black night, I am cool in soft sheets, fluffy pillow, dog breathing at my back. I listen for the owls. Even if I can’t hear them, I know they’re not gone for good.
Here's what's strange. I used to hear owls every night. Now, none. I've been wondering, where did the owls go? What has happened to them? I no longer trust that they are there.