Listen to poem:
Going In-Between
Owls fly back into the dark,
threading between the trees.
Predators and prey slip away
appeasing their shared unease.
Playing hide-and-seek
between gusts of breeze
in the pre-dawn hush,
of the lilt and lull,
such a tease.
In-between this day and night,
awake and asleep, in degrees,
conscious and the like,
is where time forgets to count.
Happenstance leans in and pleads
to go between the sheets,
pulling edges apart, unpicking seams,
blurring shadows into mists,
until nothing left is what it seems,
when going in-between,
going in-between!
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