Cry of the Wolf
In the still of a moonlit night he lay snug inside his sleeping bag. His mind wandering back to what had made him to come to this place. Was it to be at one with nature, or just an escape from the madness of the city. He had felt compelled to return to his favorite place in the forests of northern Michigan.
Here he could breathe and think clearly. He remembered camping here as a boy with his father who had told him this was a spiritual place. He didn’t quite understand what that meant but he knew enough to respect the land and the wildlife.
It was at that moment that he heard the wolves cry out. He remembered the sound and what his father had said.
“Don’t be scared son. In their dreams they sleep with the moon, not outside our tent”.
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
Merril is hosting Prosery Monday at D’Verse Poets and has prompted us with a line from a poem. We are to write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 144 words, excluding the title, and it must include the line below.
“In their dreams they sleep with the moon.” From Mary Oliver, “Death at Wind River” Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay