I stand on a cliff high above the river,

bathed in the light of a harvest moon,

A misty fog rises off the water,

cool fall air fills my lungs.

~

Down below a solitary soul waits,

its mournful call swirls and rises with the mist,

Its plea pierces my heart,

as he calls for his mate.

~

Nights are getting colder, 

winter is coming,

instinctively he knows,

with haste they must leave.

~

Dangerously he stays awhile longer,

survival lost over desire,

finally she appears out of the woods,

a scene to remember.

~

As this magnificent wolf pair turn to leave,

in the light of the harvest moon,

I realize their journey will be long,

not easy.

~

From my now silent place, 

high on the cliff,

I promise to be here on the day,

spring welcomes their family home.