Have we talked too much of dragons?
My shoulders throb from efforts to take flight.
What little skill I have I learned from you.
Now trouble keeps us always underground.
I miss our partnership of clouds.
My wing buds grew from rhythmic jolts
at a toddler’s first sight of airborne kites,
tails twisting like Oriental spirits,
in bright reds and yellows against the blue,
their strings invisible in the nurturing Sun.
There was joy and dancing in those days
as our webbing grew strong enough
to loft adventures into the sky,
where we gyred and roared…
but then the fantasies turned grim.
With passing time. We hide now below
the blasted landscape of our village,
hording piles of sentiment and
accusing treasured memories
of a more sinister intent.
Those who glimpse the ruined fires
in our eyes find scant compassion.
When talons rip apart the offered lamb,
we shed our ruby tears
and coil within ourselves more tightly.
Unleash that dragon pride again!
Let’s deck our scaly backs in colored ribbons
like samurais before the battle!
And soar to the mountaintops
we once could reach!
We’ve talked so much of dragons:
But I don’t like this story
where we lie buried in our caves.
I like the one
in which we gambol through the air
to lands where only magic
This poem appeared in the May 2015 issue of FrostFire Worlds.