Three Poems

Hello friends,

Three poems this week. Enjoy! (And if you do, please consider purchasing my new, full-colour 104-page collection The Robots of Babylon — your support would mean a lot to me.)

CRESCENT MOON (Triolet)

Above, the crescent moon is bright
but skeletal. It wears a crown
of darkness, jewelled by distant light.
Above, the crescent moon is bright,
a sunlit sickle; lifeless night
awakened in a glowing gown:
Above, the crescent moon is bright
but, skeletal, it wears a crown.

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LEAVES (Triolet)

Whose sorrow grew these hanging hosts
that rustle in the endless breeze?
 
The forest holds a court of ghosts
whose sorrow grew. (These hanging hosts
 
were sentinels of ancient posts,
but now are noosed to nameless trees.)
 
Whose sorrow grew these hanging hosts?
That rustle, in the endless breeze....

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Finally, AN INCANTATION: Three palindromes tracing a descent into ritualistic/palindromic obscurantism. The three palindromes are perfect anagrams of each other.