Wolf Moon

For Hedge’s 55

Wolf Moon
the wolf moon begins to rise
shattered into pieces
by black branches,
like a sky mounted mirror.
branches begin to whisper
tossed by high flying breezes
sounding like windchimes made from seashells,
small animal bones, broken glass –
The moon crouches in the sky
sniffing the smell of the wind.
I lift my face and begin to howl

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