The dusky cry of a hidden owl
wells across the night.
My sight hosts visions both foul
and fair.
Despite the urgent need to move,
fascinated, I stare,
enchanted and soothed.
I might have wasted all the night
if not this fright,
(I’m certain)
of the Thing behind the curtain.
The Beast of beasts darts out of the woods
and I see through the trees
it is me.
As I stood
helplessly.