The Dragon
by Andrew Gyll
A mother of serpents,
translucent as death,
she is hygiene and chaos;
abhorring stillness
she devours corpses
at the bleak sea’s
slow edge.
A strange compassion
resides in her
reeking breath,
her eyes are soft,
unblinking;
she lowers her scaly head,
nods … she is silence,
a seed of empathy
and comfort,
an unlikely ally
in the hostile land.