Friday, October 9, 2009

The Howling Moon

The Howling Moon

They say the moon can't howl,
but I swear it isn't so.
I've heard the moon, its painful wails
and it chills me to the bone.

On the night of a very full moon,
when lightness colors the dark,
the animals become restless
and serenade the night with ghostly howls.
But when the animals are all cried out
and settling down to rest,
that's when the moon really comes alive.

It whispers and caresses with promises of joy.
It cajoles and teases with promises of more.
It argues and pleads for your promised love and loyalty.
It finally guarantees your very wildest dream,
promising to always be there,
but running away with sun's first light.

1 comment:

Jeanie said...

Your poems always move me, Bobbi. The other night I was looking at the moon -- with a clear "face." The next day -- where was she?