hale

at dawn, you rise
to catch
a blood red moon –
the joker fell as king;
your blade sang
as it sliced the air
and made it bleed.
in your dreams,
something
bird bone hollow
settles in your chest.
a robed crow surrenders
a sword identical to yours,
but lonely stars burn out
before you can accept it.
you see nothing,
feel only
damp feathers.