a wolf crys out to the moon
singing to his friends both lost and dear
he crys out. long s-t-r-e-c-h-i-n-g notes.
is he belting out his love? or his deepest sarrow?
for all the world to hear
he beckons to the moon
his god. his only permanant friend.
the mist rises as the last notes of longing escape his lungs
they echo free through the air like benevolent ghosts
evanescent. disapating. gone.
just
like
everything
else
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem