Crow Queen

she stands within the echoing
cathedral of alders;
pale arms outstretched,
beckoning to the falling darkness.
silent crows peer down
from between stripped
and dripping branches,
to behold their queen;
a circlet of bone upon her brow,
spiralling tattoos of frost
etched into her skin.
a raw wind heavy with
autumnal secrets rustles her
glistening feathers,
and rattles the dead leaves caught
in her midnight hair;
creating a ghostly chorus as
lustily she sings ancient corbae songs
in her cracked voice.
her obsidian eyes fill with starlight,
and she smiles;
stretching langorously as the orange light
of the rising harvest moon caresses her slim form;
limning her heavy wings with cold spectral fire.