Hoot

I step out into the frigid night
Just slightly past twilight
In awe of the twinkling stars
As I shiver and gaze afar
I hear the trickle of a nearby brook
As an owl hoots and turns to look
Perched above in the tree, so old
Many a story he must have to be told

If he were to fly down
And land at my feet on this frozen ground
Would he ask my name
Or tell me a story so epic it's insane

If the brook were to freeze
Would I be welcome to slide, perhaps on my knees
Until the laughter I used to know
Escapes so loudly it echoes

If I could fly up to the sky
Could I count the stars by two's or maybe five's
As I leap from one to another
Elated with this world of wonder ....

Shaking off this amusing thought
I turn, going in to thaw
For the night is too cold
For this phantasmic story to be told

~SS
11/15/18