The traffic tears past so loudly-
such hurry at eleven at night.
In the quiet before dawn this morning
the Great Horned Owl
offered his deep, organ-pipe comment-
then Barred Owl countered with his nine notes
and they spoke back and forth-
the reassuring repetition between two old friends.
It was a long time since I'd heard their voices.

The owls offered comfort,
affirmed the strange orderliness of the unscheduled world,
held stillness in the hollow of a sound.
I slipped into sleep
in the peace of their conversation.