Ode to a Night Owl

Last night we heard an owl in the mulberry tree, 

Just outside the kitchen door. 

It was a mere ten metres away. 

Never had one so close before. 

Its mournful call pierced the gloom 

Like an incantation, or a spell, 

And drifted down to the forest below 

Where, in the darkness, a mate did dwell.

picture courtesy Dmitrii Zhodzishskii