Hello! Welcome to my site dedicated to my poetry, short stories, and other fiction and non-fiction written creations.
La louve…
La louve is the French equivalent of she-wolf.
Why the wolf? Or more specifically, why the she-wolf?
I’d like to characterize the season of my life that launched me into writing more intentionally as La saison de la louve or The Season of the [She-] Wolf.
When I think of this wolf, I imagine her alone at the edge of a forest, on the edge of a cliff in the snow, howling to the full moon in the dark of night. And instead of howling, I’d like to think of her as bellowing a song to that moon.
This scene in my head is a scene of beauty, hope and faith:
Despite the darkness of night, there is light: the moon. There is music in the howl of the wolf. There is hope, the assurance that a new day will come as the wolf lifts her head to the heavens. And finally, the moon that now merely reflects the sun, will soon and faithfully be replaced by the sun itself.
As the she-wolf finds herself facing the moon, high in the sky, she says to herself, ‘O life, how beautiful is this life!’
La louve en pleine nuit, en voyant la lune haute au ciel elle se dit: Qu’elle est belle! Elle est belle, cette vie…
Amicalement,
A.M. Wilsonne
la louve à la lune ǀ the wolf to the moon 