Two night birds searching for something a little more.
One an uptight owl and the other a Raven still screeching "never more".
Not exactly birds of a feather,
but still they flocked together.
They perched precariously under the summer moon.
Half a day spent in perverse wonder at their gloom and doom.
Sometimes when the sun came out,
it was enough to shame any dark doubt.
But the sun couldn't stay forever,
unlike their ton of conflicting contemplations that ended never.
Once Fall started to come around,
the Raven with the constant pall had finally found,
the will to break away,
from the shadowy chill into the delightful day.
Following where the sun shone,
and he felt a little less alone.
But the poor owl couldn't do it.
She couldn't break her natural habit.
The owl was stuck in the shadows with nothing to do,
except to keep searching for something a little more with a plaintive "who?".