Moon Sickle

By Andrew R. Duckworth

Sunlight shrinks at the moon’s sickle,
Meant to slash at day’s pendulum,
And retreats to its hiding place
So no one dares to see its face.

Moon sickle comes with a red glow
To make glad men pay what they owe,
To reap the tears it likes to drink
When the depressed will overthink.