Farewell To the Vampire
Parted curtains
puff of smoke.
Parlor trick
or cruel joke?
First a bat,
then human form—
eyes aglow,
fangs enorm.
And in the mirror,
no image there;
it stilled my heart
and stifled prayer.
But Drac was old
and suffered so;
his timing off,
reactions slow.
As he lunged
I stepped aside;
mallet ready,
his chest I eyed.
He lay there stunned,
at last my break;
I then asked how
he’d like his stake.
2nd Place, Poems from the Vampire, Just That Archaic Poet
Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2013
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