Late at night I tried to sleep,
But my eyes just would not close;
Till I heard out my window
A soft cry lost in echoes,
Drifting through the frosted glass,
Gliding over fallen snows.
"Hoo," it came in through the glass;
"Hoo," again, over my bed;
"Hoo," a third time, fading fast,
And the sound stuck in my head;
Never did I shoo it out,
Now repeating it instead.
Lying now in growing dark,
As I echoed those three cries,
I felt tiredness take its hold,
Tugging down on sleepy eyes;
And as I fell off to sleep,
My dreams filled with great birds wise,
Lulling me to softer skies.
--1998
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