It’s a spooky kind of evening here,
Wind and leaves blowing,
A perfect Owl Moon night!
My kind of night.
Before my Friday nights were all about drinking,
My Loved One and I
Would go walking in our nature park,
And listen and look for owls.
We often saw and heard them.
Now, I could feel sad that I
Drank so many Friday nights away.
My visions of a Friday night shrunk
To nothing but a bottle.
However, dwelling in the past
Will not help me.
It will not give me hope.
And hope is truly
A beautiful word.
I can ONLY look ahead right now.
I can ONLY live this Friday night.
And, I will see and hear those owls again