A boy and his grandma stand by a grave.
The moon shines above them.
The grandma hands the boy flowers.
"What are they?" he asks.
"Lupine," she replied "little purple flowers."
The grave stone, hard to read by only moon light.
Only the name is clear, Remus John Lupin.
The odd pair, young and old, turns to leave.
For a second there is silence.
Then from somewhere, perhaps the glowing full moon, there is a sound.
The howl of a lone wolf.
Goodbye, son.
Just some thing i had on my mind. Hope it was enjoyed. Please review
