Sotto Voce

In the silence of the evening…

I can hear a bird of prey

calling into darkness,

sotto voce,

sotto voce.

Hidden from all vision,

folded wings around,

protected but alert

to quiet noise,

quiet noise.

Covert operation,

camouflaged to kill,

he bides his time to fly, ascend,

to soar, 

to soar.

Whispers far below

dart his eyes to view, blinking

readiness to prey pursue,

once more,

once more.

Nothing follows then,

I cannot hear a sound,

a hush descends upon the soul of dark.

It’s alright,

it’s alright.

Then I close my eyes  to sleep,

silence follows silence,

a fog, a chill around.

all through the night,

through the night.

 

Sotto voce begins again,

plaintive in its plea

and comforts me again.

The night’s

alright.