It was a blue night with a full moon.
The companionless wolf ran to the deep frigid woods.
He had nowhere else to go, but there, indeed.
He looked up to the dark sky, howling in pain.
The moon observed, catching him in sorrow.
She whispered, ‘My poor wolf, left behind by your pack’.
‘Who might that be, who might that be’ the wolf wailed.
‘I feel your woe, do not fret, let us find solace’.
Her reply turned the wolf whimpering.
‘Enough with the lament, I promise I am here for you’.
And every time the night is blue, the full moon appears,
sticking to the lone wolf in tears.
n.e