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This is my dragon. He found me today.
He had been searching for me a long time.
I lost him many years ago when I was young.
I took a wrong turn. Some had called it life.
So many have died of what they call life,
In vain their dragons searching for them,
I know I am fortunate, unlike them—
My dragon found me and shared his fire with me
Before he breathed his last in the disguise
He had worn all these years calling for me
(Dragons who must hide must also die).
He opened his mouth as if to swallow me,
But only whispered his dream for me—
I forfeited flight when I ran from my dream
But I can still believe his dream in me.
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About the Author
R Allen Shoaf
EROTIC RECKONINGS, my second volume of poetry, can now be purchased from New Plains Press or from Amazon. My third volume, PIED-PIPER PHILOL
LAW-BREAKERS, NOT LAW-MAKERS: THE TEA-RANNY PARTY As the Tea-ranny Party continues to hack away at the root of American singularity, or the Constitution — the Constitution of a democracy founded in government of the people, by the people, for the people — it becomes clearer and clearer that their...
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As America plunges ever deeper into the Fourth Reich (recall how the wealthy industrialists supported the Nazis), I offer the third in a series of poems about my father and brother and their alcohol and drug addictions resulting from what today we call PTSD.