Listening to every heart
The hootie-owl sits at night
hearing motion, taking flight,
the eagle peruses land by light
but at dusk ends his flight.
In sun's beam I hear a screech on high
lift my eyes, view the sky
In dark, from the other, just like you,
I hear the question, soft, just "who?"
"Who" is the question, from whence words come,
"Who" is the answer, no thought left undone,
"Who" is the rhymer all poets adore?
why 'tis "Who-t"-owl-rn" does tribute adorn.