There’s a Nite Owl that wishes to be a sunbeam.
In the dark, that thought is gone.
Streaming along, out over the lawn,
That predator screams out loud,
“Dreams never climb passed dawn.”
Then, I, left with but a yawn,
wake up. Without a doubt,
I rise and shout,
“All that we see or seem?”
Nothing, not even a hoot.
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