She’s a white curl snarl of bright
stone, shone in fire and song. We
watch her tail turn black, wane
smudge into this talon-punctured
scrim. She swims across the inky
ocean, curved into her own dark
flank. She’s listening for the tides,
the tried and true sound of her
own liquid beat. Draw close; she’ll
tell you constellationesque stories
with her crimson breath, freckled
shine fallen far out behind her, a coda;
a kite tail. A pebbled trail of poems.
Her last ash, withered. A storm of sigh.
written for toads.
Wow….an admiring sigh at this end……..gorgeous.
What a phrase! nice write De
I think this is my favorite of yours. Just exquisite.
Think I’ve seen her. A pleasure to read.
Love your dragon moon, De! Especially the phrases: ‘white curl snarl of bright
stone’ and ‘pebbled trail of poems’.
I’ve lost track of the number of poems I’ve written about the moon–she is perhaps our last and best refuge when we need that diffuse and silver illumination for vision to form our words–this is a shiny one, full of the flicker and magic of her reflected light. I especially like “..white curl snarl of bright/ stone, shone in fire and song…’ and “..constellationesque..” with its rich cargo of analogy. Loved the whole thing.
The moon as dragon or dragon as moon.. This is just awesome. Took my breath away.
“She’s a white curl snarl of bright” … That is a delicious opening line (especially the break). “Drag-on” moon made me snicker. Made me think of someone who goes on and on, while talking or teaching or writing, and gets rather boring. 😛
The line break just before “stone” … with the line ending in a period and then “We” … makes me see “We stone.” Then shortly after, the moon is in the ocean, a liquid. So although I know you were talking about her reflection, what I’m picturing is whomever “We” is, throwing stones at the moon. Then she falls out of the sky and into the water. Thankfully she’s had swimming lessons!
“She’s listening for the tides” … I love that she’s listening, not looking or feeling. As if what you see and feel can be a lie, but what you hear is perhaps more true. Interesting philosophy to ponder.
Gorgeous wrap-around line: “own liquid beat. Draw close; she’ll” … “Draw close; she’ll own liquid-beat.”
Love, love, love this line: “with her crimson breath, freckled” … That and the coda are my favorite parts. “a coda; a kite tail” … Insane over that gorgeous wording and imagery. And then going into “A pebbled trail of poems”?! Fantastic!!!
Then your secret phrasing in the last line: “Her last dash, her last stash.” She’s trying to give up her addictions (her bags of drugs or whatever). This is her “last stash.” She keeps trying to run away from her addictions, I think. But maybe she’s going to stop running and face them instead.
“withered” = wit-heard … So then I see “Wit heard a storm of sigh.” Then I’m picturing “Wit” as an entity, as a god (like Hera, Zeus, etc.) Ooh, or it could be “white” … which I love for contrast, a white sky and a storm sky doing battle. That’s what’s going on inside her, I think.
Obviously I love this poem. 😛
constellationesque … the best part of any moon.
I like your Dragon Moon, Dee. She sounds very likeable. Especially special are her tails, in the nature of kite-tails.
I follow World Dragon Day activities on Facebook. “In 2017, World Dragon Day will be celebrated on Saturday the 7th of October. There will be events and celebrations all over the world and details will be posted here. There will also be a Dragon Day on Wednesday the 25th of October, with events in different countries …” Not a lot of activity yet.
Ooooooo. I have requested to join the page, too. Thank you, Jim. 🙂
My goodness such a pleasurable read, De!❤️
Thank you all, so much, for your generous comments.