Vampires

Those night-hunters, vampires,
unable to go out in the sun,
arrange moonlit picnics for
themselves on scenic hillsides
during the warmer months, on
the young and supple or ancient
craggy hills of their grandmother
Earth. They plant tall torches in
the dry dirt in perimeter around
antique Persian carpets, smaller
candelabra placed on the rugs'
centers, as stars burn overhead
and the harmless moon, milky,
obfuscating mirror of their
destroyer, hangs its wan smile.

They eat what small delicacies
as they can stomach
off antique forks and plates
of burnished, scrollworked silver,
hearts and livers, severed fingers,
veins and arteries webs of lace,
and listen to the crickets sing
their rustling canzonettas,
and feel the cool night breeze
lighten the heavy, singing air,
tickle at their hair and faces,
as pearls of dew form on their
time-worn, hand-loomed clothing
and the folds of their skin.
Their hands ruffling the wet grass.


---Published by Academy of the Heart and Mind, Jan. 2024
https://academyoftheheartandmind.com/2024/01/24/vampires-and-other-poems/