Wolf
As the mountains blossom under a ripening moon
our yips fall like drops, a chorus
rippling your dreams,
blurring your waters
with change
and invitation.
Voices rise here,
in between,
widening across the valley,
scattering shadows.
In this too, you belong —
the way light plays across waves,
or like the dew, shaken from our
coats,
lands like stars
all around you.
bearbones 
I needed to read these words. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Mireille!
LikeLiked by 1 person
One of my favorites! The language is so lush Tricia. I am transported to “the mountains blossom under a ripening moon.” xo
LikeLike