I lounged on the deck with a mooched glass of ***,
Twilight chill enchanting my soul.
My stomach toiled with excitement and fear.
The sleepless night welded what I held dear
With the provoked thoughts of life if I were to
Disappear.
I will.
Then out of the blue, the trees begin to whistle.
Shake, scrape, shake, the dance of the wind.
But in this glorious scene...
Could it be?
A gentle hoot?
An owl, old as time, whispering my name in the wind.