Vampire

A poem of futility

VAMPIRE

O. Wade © 1985





He sleeps on the edge of eternity

Night beneath a blackbird’s wing

                              Infinity whispers of Slithering clouds and Ancient things



In the blue-jelly moonlight

A Dark Silhouette crouches atop the stile

In pause to smell the night

The Wind whips among his black rags





He is Old Eyes of Night, Bloodless bone, Death’s ghost

He Suckles the breast of Death, a thirst unquenchable



The East is afire

Silver spears wound the dawn

Leather sails disturb a curdled-milk sky



In a mansion of the restless dead

This Ancient Blood petitions peace

A cold, black rest beneath the blackbird’s wing