Dark Angels

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.



High above,

Snowflakes form and fall,

Like dark angels

With frozen skins.

She bats at them for a while, then lets them cover her,

One

By one,

By three,

By hundreds,

Until she is her own Van Gogh Starry Night

Lit by headlights

And the glow from Danny's behind her.



In time,

Because she is a cat,

She will go inside--

Clearly,

Regally,

Offended.

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