Rain echoes
Hoarsened call
Of owl,
Stirring melancholy,
If she has finished moving
If she needs help.
I wish I could be there,
She should’ve lived
Closer,
Wish time could be
Stretchable for her.
Working mom’s struggle,
Like birthing throes.
Rain begins to
Pour down,
Churning distress at the shore
Of night.
With no text from her.
Gold lamplight in the rain twinkles,
Assuring,
‘She’s too busy to call, but
The working mom is doing
Wonderful!’
© Byung A. Fallgren
Byung A. Fallgren 
Lovely!
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great poem…good one….nice share
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Thank you so much.
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Thank you.
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I liked the upbeat twist at the end.
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Thank you.
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