Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The Queen Of The Vampires, in black panther form,
Sits on the damp sidewalk outside Danny's Coffee Shop.
She turns her golden eyes up to the night sky, as deep and as black as she is.
Snowflakes form and fall,
Like dark angels
With frozen skins.
She bats at them for a while, then lets them cover her,
Until she is her own Van Gogh Starry Night
Lit by headlights
And the glow from Danny's behind her.
Because she is a cat,
She will go inside--
Tonight, she will lie down in the front window,
Showing her tail to the warm lit room,
And her sorrow to the stop light
And the passing hours.
Sleep, that tender killer, covers her,
And she finds the one forbidden her
In a made-up dream even vampires need
When the shadows have called
And hidden her.
for One Shot Wednesday #34