La Mort

Three cards drawn
then placed against the black table
a year prior,
there he was-
arranging your fate

and there you were
as the calendar had made up
its mind
to jump to month thirteen

It had found you
placed against
the low yellow
motel room light
which did not show contrition
until it was hour three.

And the off, on tick of the poorly hung clock
did not stall, as the timekeeper laughs
in the background – off stage.

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