The King is Dead

The king has fallen from his saddle

and does not rise to mount again.

The laughter that accompanied him down

to the ground

stifled by the growing seriousness

of the situation

rises again as the white knight

rides to the scene

riding,

falling from his horse

rising to ride again

to fall again.

The people are light in their hearts

as he rides his falling and rising way

into the forest.

The king is dead

the white knight has lost his head

to the black knight who sat solid and patient

in the deep forest

did not laugh

spurred forward

sword already moving

to intercept the white knight's

next fall.

That's all.

The king is dead.

The white knight is dead.

The people are alone in the forest.