Nosferatu Poem by SJ. Sharkey
Nosferatu
By day the bat is cousin to the mouse
He likes the attic of an ageing house
His fingers make a hat about his head
His pulse beat is so slow we think him dead
He loops in crazy figures half the night
Among the trees that face the corner light
But when he brushes against a screen
We are afraid of what we’ve seen
For something is amiss or out of place
When mice with wings can wear a human face
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 2:02:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
