No wolves howl for you
no fools fish for you
no priests pray to you
no tides flow to you
no minstrels sing under your light
no man has gone mad for you yet

Luna's slacker sister
adopted in a weak moment
"Moon? Pah! just a hobo rock
that got lucky", she says.
One day she'll wake up to find
you've followed your namesake tribe
passed out of sight,
out of knowledge,
wandered into myth.