feet to fingers muscled in will and faith;
secretly, he prepares his power and
Some attempt to frighten, awe with
with his lightening lance,
dragon slayer seeks only to wither and
It is best his enemy knows nothing
The rainbow dragon writhes through
vast labyrinths of ineffable connected
orange and yellow light.
In unwitnessed mountains, the dragon
cold blooded and hungry. He is made
of ice and teeth, growls and
Dragon slayer in proud silence walks,
his grey wool cloak over strong heart
deeply beating. His eyes like oak
No one has sent him, no one knows.
At moon-rise he stops below a birch,
he builds his fire, he waits.
Big open canyons, steep hills, dark
thin trails, an eye.
Dragon tops the ridge, nostrils flare,
pauses, hangs on awful dawn,
waddles down ridge, swishes tail
through fallen silver-tip needles.
Inside merciless breast, cold treasure.
Infinitesimal chance, for slayer to
To falter or run is doom.
Dragon slayer wades, through rushing
exhausted in compassionate destruction.
He feels like a feathered nest that
the smooth eggs of accomplished time.
Neither dragon nor slayer survive,
but the glory of rainbows
© Carlton Godbold 1987