The eyes dance in the lighted hour
as ears will open wide,
The laugh, a hollowed lengthy shrill
awakens all this night.
A harvest moon is meekly peeking
behind her curtained wall,
With hairs on end, slowing changing....
the beast becomes us all.
Smells of midnight pine consume
more so than tempid flowers,
So, so soon the moon will call
bestowing all her powers.
To see into the deepest night,
to run with speed devoid of fright,
To howl unto the star filled skies
and keep them scared until sunrise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.