No One May Read The Words

No one may read the words

The audience may be silent

Or may not exist

Write it still

Howl at the moon

In the dead of the night

Quiet in the forest

The wolf does not care

It is not heard

By all

The howl is for its pack

To acknowledge the lit night

And the glory of being cold

Hungry and alive

The hunt is for the sake

Of the hunt itself

The words are for the sake

Of the words themselves

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013