Though no longer amongst us
Their tradition and spirit lingers on
Like the names associated with
Each month's new full moon

A reoccurring theme in the cycle
When months are measured by moons returning
A practice common among indigenous peoples

In the month of January
A great moon rises slowly
And at night the Wolf pack howl out plaintively
For food is scarce and the wolves are hungry

To the First Peoples - The Wolf is brother
And only a brother can feel the pain of his brother's hunger
That is why the Native Peoples name January “Wolf Moon” in their brother's honor

Now to a museum, all too soon -The Tipi (tepee, teepee) has gone
Whilst within a reservation the Wolf Pack are free to roam

As for their spirit - It is running free
And cannot be captured, best to let it be

Your Brother, The Wolf never was your enemy

© Calac

Chris Lane

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wolf-moon-4/