Once in a Red Moon

A hush of voices
Washes free.
Cleanses this brittle stillness,
Of the softly moonlit night.
The sky pulses indigo,
Unnatural hisses cloud
The watery silence,
A breaking veil stretched thin.

Skin membranes tickle,
An itching sensation in my mind.
Hackles rise.

Sweat
On a cold night.
Shivering lightly,
I watch the moon glow,
Large and red.
It smirks down at me,
As I look up, and wonder.

Crooning,
The reapers step forth into
Hollow light,
Shrouded by the lych gate.
A fox touches their shadow – dies.
It joins the dead things
Waltzing on the shaded grass.
Morose puppetry.

With a gentle movement – loving caress,
The reapers meet my eyes.
And slowly – oh, so slowly,
They draw inwards.