The moon

Once the blue moon rises
You can find me whispering to the stars
Asking why I am left to the wolves

They’ll speak of highest mountains
I’ll ask about the dirt below me
And they’ll point me toward the sea

Once the red moon rises
You can find me yelling at the soil
Asking if the wolves had to devour me

They’ll simply say, “yes.”

Copyright © Robin LeeAnn

7 thoughts on “The moon

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