The Owl Cries at the Waxing Gibbous Moon

Ghost-white face, hovering
In pitch black darkness
Near perfect circle of light
Slowly climbs Heaven’s dark staircase

All alone, save one distant lonely star
Who watches on
Praying for a mere cricket’s song
Awaiting first signs of daybreak

Through the October trees
She beams yellow-white
A small elbowed branch twitches
Nervous reflection, perhaps the wind

In the distance, the haunting cry of a screech owl
Agitated by the waxing gibbous moon
The fatal bellman rings his bell
Another soul fast a memory