Just beyond the rocks
a line of small birds sit
on a wire, awaiting
sun’s bright rays to 
fill the sky before they fly about.
Soon they will begin to sing 
to welcome dawn.
Now small birds, are
still, quietly waiting in 
pre-dawn’s purple gray,
listening as owl hoots. 
They wait for his laughter 
to signal his farewell 
to night, to hunting,
for him to rest
until sun sleeps again.
Then these small birds
will take to sky, trilling
celebration tunes until night,
when owl will 
again reign supreme.