Who?

A lone, white owl spreads his wings
And into the hollow night he sings:
“Who?” He asks, voice echoing
And lifts into the air silently. 

Across a snowy, glistening field
The raptor glides, his grace surreal
His ears alert to hear the coos
Of whoever may reply to his eager “Who?”s.

The owl lands on a scraggly tree,
And looks around, eyes searching
“Who?” Again, the owl repeats
And sits in the cold, patiently. 

Night after night, he returns and he calls
Despite the silence, his hopes do not fall. 
He sits through the snow, braving the freeze
"Who?” He says, voice drifting with the breeze. 

His calls are in vain, but he’s unaware
So time after time, he questions the air
For there’s no one that sees him, nor hears him, it’s true
It’s just him and himself, repeating his “Who?”.