Wolf Moon

What silvery light
Is this, that shines
Between the branches
Betwixt the vines
Illuminating
Each twig, each tree
Bathed in
Ethereal beauty
A light so cold
It sings of death
For weary travellers
Whose clouds of breath
Condense, then freeze
Each moment long
A pause to hear
The Wolf Moon's song

Photo by David Dibert on Unsplash