The Perseids at 3am

Night fishing; bright meteors.
Star-trails streak black sky :
one, two, three, four and more.

Companions drowse, while I lie alone :
just me, the dark dome in its dream
and timeless space spinning slowly.

An owl hoots its feathered fear,
saying she alone is the lady of this lake ;
that I lie the interloper here.
Yet the stars above are all I seek.