The Hooting Season

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Around our wooded property

A courtship gets underway

An unseen force marks his territory

In darkness; waiting for his prey

 

In the chill starts the hooting season

And, we always hear the raucous sounds

But, sadly we rarely get a glimpse

Of this force here on our grounds

 

It is comforting to know when

We hear the rowdy courtship cry

The night shift is still here somewhere

High in a pine or oak nearby

 

 

Linking with Poets United Midweek Motif…The Owl

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Photo/Unsplash

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