good glimpses of smallish dragons


it’s the wings that give them
away, most surprisingly not
the hot hot glow of embered
breath. the marigold scent of
morning and good green earth.

they unfold themselves slow,
no more than fireflies, or snap
-dragons, dragonflies, tiny songs.

the sun rises on thorn claw,
gnarled horn. the rising and fall
-ing of emerald-scaled chest. we

always (all ways) let them
sleep, but keep their secrets


Prompted by Poetic Asides

This entry was posted in dragon poems, poetic asides poems and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to good glimpses of smallish dragons

  1. Sherry Marr says:

    This is absolutely gorgeous, in every possible way.

  2. erbiage says:

    Always and in all ways. Love this!

  3. I love ‘the marigold scent of morning.’

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