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.
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