November Poem: Wolf Moon

Wolf Moon by Mary Oliver

Now is the season

of hungry mice,

cold rabbits,

lean owls

hunkering with their lamp-eyes

in the leafless lanes

in the needled dark;

now is the season

when the kittle fox

comes to town

in the blue valley

of early morning;

now is the season

of iron rivers,

bloody crossings,

flaring winds,

birds frozen

in their tents of weeds,

their music spent

Thanks to JoEllen Moldoff