Snatcher of the White

With lights switched off the coast is deemed as clear
The rise and fall of children’s chests grows deep
Her auburn tresses pulled behind her ear
Her skirt smoothed down, gun locked in place, takes leap
Her charcoal wings unseen against the night
In picture books she always fluttered pink
She reaches, gropes and grabs it, pearly white
She drops it with the others with a “clink”
She smells less so of bubble gum than rust
Not pixies but the gremlins does she join
And to those kindly children who so trust
She recommends you double check that coin
A treasure for her chamber wall’s neat stack
A child’s mind so supple in the black




Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash