sometimes I feel the moon
sometimes I feel the moon

sometimes I feel the moon
when I am human but not human
when I am a wolf but not a wolf
I feel the moon

sometimes I feel drawn
to that pale round skeletal pearl in the sky
in the quiet night when all is asleep
and the silence echoes until you feel deaf
I look up to that pearl
something in me breaks loose
a howl builds up
I call to the moon
dogs in the neighborhood joins in
we sing
gooseflesh ripples on my skin
I feel the change

sometimes I feel the moon
when I am human but a wolf
when I am a wolf but human
I feel the moon

my feet died, now my paws run on the grass
my tail whips in the air behind me
my nose smells things the human nose never knew
my ears hear pitches long lost to human ears.

my what big ears I got – better to hear a deer
I run to look for it
soon I find I am not alone
a pack hunts with me
we see the deer
we hunt…

In the morning I wake up naked, pink, human
and I miss the moon

Even then sometimes I feel the moon
when I am human and the wolf sleeps
when the wolf sleeps and I am fragile
I still feel the moon…

(c) 2016 Allen Simpson

dedicated to my wolfkin

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