The howling wolf-
Laments at moons beguile.
The silver glint is lost, again
Behind the sunshines smile.
The River bending twixt the trees-
A summer that promises joy.
Waters that churn in kind remorse
Their simple hymn a coy.
The running boy-
Reaching out his hands.
Until lost too, like the moon.
Past rolling rivers and wispy trees-
Theyll be together soon.














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