The Moan
Phillip Whitman Elvrum
""the Moan""
In the night after the bats come out, I hear you howling.
I know no one and I hold nothing now that I know you.
This is how we howl.
In the dark night on the unlit trail there's no way through but to crawl.
Perplexed by the world around me, there's no way through but to surrender my body completely to you to be eaten, to be gnawed,
to fulfill the pregnant night,
and then to be born in mornings,
to be quiet!
