Poem: “Stranger of the Night”


Stranger of the Night

Barred owl, what are you doing here
At bay in a tall pine tree
Where the small birds curse and jeer?

This is mid-morning, not evening shade – Glide quickly to the hillside den
Where shadows of the moon are made , Turn your rounded head and stare Swivel
at the trail Your great dark eyes protected from the blue sky’s glare

Once we could converse, we were not different So much as given offices to
bear You to silence, we to praise the firmament

Alien to alien, each species has unlearned What Eve and Adam knew before The
precious gifts of God were spurned

We did not name so much as speak
One to the other
And afterward the prattle of the mouse’s squeak

Stranger of the night, your presence here blasphemes, Go back to your
robber’s den Where daylight ventures only in its dreams

June 23, 2011


About Author