3. DRAGON
There is a veil between me
and the bottomless sky.
Cloud or a sheet billowing,
the edge of my mind.

Standing on the street
in the rain,
(unnamed and unknown)
only sound,
assuming nothing.

Seeing the echoing shape
of the mammoth that tore
through the brush here
(A tractor idling
two blocks away
in the fog, unseen.)
and the dragon that roars now.

For all I know,
lost in the weather.
Petals blow. Is this a river?
In a palace of water
nothing is familiar
and the ground always shakes.
I dive into
a pool of uncertainty.

Going into the basement again,
I reach down
beneath the human.

Copyright: SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.
Writer(s): Phillip Whitman Elvrum