Slowly, silently, now the moon
Is following me in the sky
I wonder how much the old man sees
When I am walking by?
And does he see the owls at night
Fly through the darkening sky?
And does he see the hummingbirds’ nests
In the sycamores and the pines?
Slowly, silently now the moon
Is watching migration swing
Into the fullest feathered night
As all the birds take wing,
Back to summer breeding grounds,
Back to cooler climes,
Where mating and nesting are soon begun
In the sycamores and the pines!
~Kathie Adams Brown (April 2, 2013)