January Full Moon
Aquamarine sky afternoon
I sip tea and wait for Her to rise.
She, the one my ancestors called
Venus appears, lovely and loving.
Old Moon crowns over pine trees
expanding to pale yellow like the colour
of wolf pup eyes on a distant prairie
One low growl breaks silence
and we join in the primal howl
that makes us one.
Ah - ooooooh
we howl in unison as
She pulls tides and excites our blood.
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