Gazing Moon

Up through the black mountains, hiding in the mist,
crouching in a graven cave, eyes blinking in the darkness,
lays a family, a pack, a bond more fierce than the teeth
in their mouths. Their neutral fur blends together, as one.

A round harvest moon, tinged with orange,
sits in the sky, keeping company with the stars,
soft chins resting against the others' neck,
as the little pups sleep quietly in her fur, as one.

Deep brown eyes hidden by lids as she sleeps,
lighter hazel swirling with hints of green in his
as he watches over his pack, his everythings,
as the Dream King visits them, as one.

For once the moon is gone and the stars hidden,
the dark clouds drift away as the sun rises,
bringing with it the oranges and reds and blues,
of life and movement and hearts beating, as one.