4-19 When Next I Howl At The Moon

when next I howl at the moon,
it is you gypsy lover,
I call,
to the sanguine river,
of the autumn fall,
running hot,
and dark,
in the ember-ed desert,
of my hungered tune,
it is you, and I, and the harvest moon,
as the wild wolf call, come
as the unfurled ribbon of song, come
as the beast of the run,
into the swallowing sky, come,
sing the night, long,
it is you and I,
gypsy lover and the moon,
when I next I howl,
into my arms,
come,
come,
the night ends too soon.