Vampyre
She walks briskly,
weaving through the
tamarack stand.
Ahead, the path
curves, hugs the edge
of a tall rock.
A sinister myster
Cuts through the stillness,
blue-black under
the moonlit clouds.
The wraith leans in
as if to kiss.
Flinty incisors,
sharp and snarling,
bite into her throat.
Blood pours, hot and red,
stains the dark mud,
pools at their feet.