I’m sitting on the lawn alone,
Staring at the stars, the oaks,
Hoping for owls.
Next door the dog growls low,
Not sure if I’m a stranger
Or the man who feeds him treats;
Down the block a toad croaks.
The toad hopes for a mate,
The dog for milk bones;
But the stars are like the oaks,
No hopes and no regrets;
And owls might be
Compared to stars –
Fierce, intense,
Gone by dawn.
©2014 John I. Blair
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