Vampire’s Child
With what wonder did I behold the child.
Alone outdoors and sleeping in a box.
Far from the town. Deep in the forest. Piled
with other refuse in a nest of rocks
and kept from crawling forth by seven locks.
She woke and cooed. Her face was pale and sweet.
Content. Though she lacked blanket, milk and socks.
She was newborn, to judge by tiny feet.
I sent the dog to warm her with his heat
and I began to try the locks. Why locks
for this pretty, perfect child, too weak to bleat?
Odd. I set to and gave them harder knocks
and thus dislodged a clue. A garlic wreath.
She smiled. Ah ha! The babe was born with teeth!
I'd been researching the cultural history of vampires; published by Dracula Press and in Amelia Magazine
