The Night Watcher

The Night Watcher

Contributed by Claire Conway

Mat-Su Valley

 

Dark is the night

On which I take flight 

Cold are the trees

Where I sleep

 

Sharp blows the wind

Right into my face 

Gone are the leaves

and the Snow takes their plaice

 

The other birds roost

On the branch of Spruce

To await the dawn

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 gray

Away I will go

I fly to my tree

And there I will stay

Until another night comes.