Night Visitors

Midnight has passed,

The lake is black,

Masses of distant stars

Shimmer, decorating the sky,

A dazzling Christmas tree.


The lonely wail of a train

Disturbs this stillness,

And, then, leisurely fades

Beyond shadowy hills.


Abruptly, like an echo,

A solemn, sonorous cry

Reminiscent of despair

Bursts from inky water,

Haunting, illusory.


Answering the call,

An erratic, trembling peal,

Inducing spine-tingling,

Preternatural feelings,

Ancient fears re-visited.


Provocative, alluring,

This demonic aria,

Flawlessly proffered

By Nature’s unique gift,

Mary Lake’s loons.

– Eleanor kidd