"Deftly the Bird Flies" by Crista Whyte

Deftly the bird flies,

but what bird looks like this?

Two un-feathered wings outstretched,

meeting beneath its scaled underbelly,

to hide its massive, talon claws.

It is no bird,

for what bird looks like this?

Through the night sky,

it is but one long, shimmering diamond,

with eyes that pierce the soul,

like men’s who first meet the light of day,

squinting,

stepping back.

A serpent, were we not so clever,

for what serpent looks like this?

At the end of it’s long line

is a tail like a fish,

elegant and rippling through the

watery depth of black.

But what serpent looks like this?

Alight with fire, it seems,

Burning with the glow of orange embers,

It turns to face us down below,

barring its teeth

like a rabid,

drooling dog.

A dragon, perhaps,

but what dragon lives for us to see?

Yet there in the sky it hovers,

beating its wings to cast us back astray.

its head reels back,

seething in the breath of death,

and there upon our quivering hearts

the embers grow to flames.

Who lives now, with a dragon to see?