Bone Chimes

Bones and leaves
leaves and bones
knocking songs
of death, my death
hanging by
you, the bone

snatchers nibbling
my leaves
and bones and
bones and leaves
on trees every
where but

the blood moon,
as big as it
was, beats rarely
but falls, putting
red on
my bones.

To the leaves
and the bones
and the snatchers
above: Beware of
bone chimes
under red light.