A Rare Wolf Moon

This vivid pink sky does not often visit Nebraska in December It is a rare wolf moon, few recognize the implied significance The sage soothsayer knows it is her opportunity She is closer to the veil tonight than most nights She chooses a few stones from the path Wishing one of them was bloodstone, But chooses feldspar, the next best mineral Air is colder than usual, she expects to hear owl. Owl is silent, possibly in hiding from tonight Disturbances are afoot; you can tell by the stillness. A she wolf in the distance gives one lone howl In solidarity with the soothsayer, encouraging her vigilance.