Arrias and his Muse: In the Fog

Author’s Note: He was just sitting up there in the tree this morning – 2nd morning appearance this week. But before I went out he was hooting quite a bit – I looked it up – definitely a Great Horned Owl’s call…ArriasInline image

Early morning, a dense, warm fog,
The sky still black as pitch,
Out with the dogs in silent dawn,
Air is still, not a branch does twitch.

A distinctive noise, that particular hoot,
The call is clear and pure,
Not just any, a Great Horned Owl,
Tis such an owl to be sure,
That strange noise, that eerie noise,
Cuts through that blanket, thick and gray,
The Great Horned Owl in his perch,
On watch, ere the break of day.

I wave the light at the wood,
The fog is thick but I see the fellow,
He sits alone, high up in the tree,
His eyes seem to glow a brilliant yellow,
I slowly walk, can just barely see,
He turns his head to follow,
Great Horned Owl on the hunt,
Pre-dawn at foggy Dog Hollow.

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