The Owl and the Wolf

I am an owl in the night asking, 'who- Who' makes those lunic shapes in the distance? It is the wolf howling under the moon. She echo’s in the night, it’s a smooth trance. I am hiding, perched up under and through, Nestled in to share fear with trembling trees. The eve air drags her howls past forest roofs Towards the silvery dusk above me. I am drunk by the silence that followed Sunken deep by shadows of evening gloom. Dreams to own this space are quickly swallowed And my wings hold onto my sweet hoo hoo’s. For the wolf, she wanders fiercely to dawn And the sleeping sun has only just gone.