rising in the night sky—
held high,
by unseen hands.
In communion
with nature,
the day-birds fly
overhead.
Kildeer's shrill cry—
an air, against
the fly-by chorus
of wild-geese,
so high,
in the night sky.
Inside, we lie,
sleepless,
in our beds
below.
Kat Mortensen©2011
