the wolves have stopped howling now.
their warbles and screams and cries to the sky echo,
quieter now, weakening,
they echo softly between the heartbeats drumming in my ears.
they once begged for the moon to turn and pay attention,
for the world is not made to live in darkness for such a long while.
do you not see what's happening? do you not see our pain?
but the clouds muffled their pleas in churning blankets of smoke,
the final sliver of silver slipped beneath the horizon with a small, dying gasp, and
the golden stars began to wink out,
the wolves have stopped howling now
but i am still here.
they are gone,
my bones are cracked, my tongue is stiff, and my feet are bloodied,
but my breath still fogs the air.
i am still alive.
and if the wolves can scream no more,
their hides having shrunk back into the ashen shadows from which they came,
if the earth has swallowed their cries into the darkness,
their yellow eyes ablaze and flickering no longer,
if all that i can feel is their
echo between heartbeats,
let me fill my lungs and howl.
let me howl for the pain of loss and the pain in forgetting and the pain in moving on
let me howl for hearts broken and souls heavy and eyes blinded,
let me howl for all the laments whispered and screamed and repeated
because they are real.
let me fill a sky black, a world uncaring, a moon unreachable,
and let it change.