It sounded like a man yelling in the distance.
It echoed through the quiet of the forest.
The sound flew on the wind and settled nearby –
it was an owl song.
His voice like a question into the dark night.

There was a scurry on the porch just outside my window.
Wild nails tapping against the wood from a creature’s paws.
A wall separating me from my little bed and the Victorian couch outside on the front porch.
“Come sleep on my couch,” I whispered.
And I imagined whatever night creature was out there
lit by the sliver of the moon
would lay its head down and stretch its limbs out on the outside couch.
We could ask each other questions
through the open window
and never see each other at all…..