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Wolf Moon

A Poem

I was mourning the lack of stars even on this clear night.

Then something caught my eye below

and I looked down to constellations in the snow.

The Wolf Moon casts shadows from the branches,

connecting the dots of this tapestry of light.

A rabbit scurries across the snow,

braving the same moon’s hungry eye.

And through it all, there is silence.

Not a sound on the sparkling powder.

Not a sound, they say, as they all sing in a perfect harmony.

A symphony.

A lullaby.

A visible breath in the night air.

Ellie Maureen 1/6/23


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