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Lone Wolfe cries single voiced to silver night.
Hollow echo of his brothers.
Too long restless run on the wind
Does he hear the Clan's call?
Each takes voice to his echo of lonliness
Resounding the Grove with chorus.
Surcease at last offered
To bitter need long held
Running always running
Always from while running to.
Reflected in moon silvered orbs
His image played before him.
Hope lulls to rest wary judgement
Aching too long held.
Hope and quiet wonder fill amber eyes with silver shadows
Fear rests at last long earned slumber
Dancing shadows healing pain.
And only herald to the gaudy spring.
Copyright © 1991 s.d.