The Night Watcher

The Night Watcher

Contributed by Claire Conway

Dark is The Night

On Which I Take Flight

Cold are The Trees

Where I Sleep

Sharp Blows of Wind

Right Into my Face

Gone are The Leaves

And The Snow Takes Their Place

The Other Birds Roost

On The Branch of a Spruce

To Await the Lawn

Which Starts Their Day

But The Night is my Day

And with Dusk I Awake

For I am the Owl

And now Flight I Take

And when Dawn Comes Again

To this Dark Land of Snow

And The Black Turns to Grey

Away I will go

I Fly to my Tree

And There I will Stay

Until Another Night Comes