Susan Gabriel


January Full Moon


Aquamarine sky afternoon
I sip tea and wait for Her to rise.
She, the one my ancestors called
Old Moon
Snow Moon
Wolf Moon
Dusk
Twilight
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.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 12, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Some full moons are more powerful than others. In the deep of winter when solitude can be prevalent, a sound or a sight can stir the blood and remind of our kinship with all creatures.

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