It’s dark between the trees
There’s a chilling bite in the air
and it’s dark between the trees.
As dawn begins the owl settles in
he’ll sleep cozily, wrapped in feathers
and won’t mind the cold.
Daylight creatures awaken
the volume in the forest rises
yet it remains dark,
a lone woman walks from the woods
dragging behind her a shovel.
Exhausted, though relieved its over.
Reaching her bed she pulls
the down blanket over her,
thinking of the owl.
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