Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Sitting (Poem 148)

Slip under the surface
To where the dragons are.
Their claws, like ice picks,
Score the granite floors
Of their cavernous maws,
Leaving corrugations large
Enough to hide 
A spider or a diamond.
Sit, just there.
Sit, and tell them fairytales,
Lure them with your faith,
Here in their deep lairs
Of mist and mayhem,
Stone and stars,
Under the surface,
Where the dragons are.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six