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Poetry
Fantasy
I came upon him yesterday, deep
In the woods behind my house
He was young, his wings still
Like suede, velvety-soft
He had a sad, fearful look
In his greeny-ice eyes
As I tiptoed nearer
A tree between he
And I, for safety.
I needn’t have worried
He dreaded me far more than
I, him.
I wondered why he
Didn’t fly away
Until I saw his leg
Tangled in rusty, modern
Barbed wire and weeds
My heart leapt
In fear and sorrow
For this beautiful, wounded
Piece of loveliness
Cooing, whistling softly,
I left my scanty shelter
And moved toward him
His skin, muted blue
Was marred by rusty scars
From his fight
I reached out hesitantly
To touch his shell-smooth hide
His lips quavered, afraid
My hands shook in awe
But when we touched
There was a bond
He knew me, and I, him
And that was all that mattered
I gently unwound the wire
Flinching, and I felt his
Pain as each metal thorn
Came free.
When he was finally unfettered
I stepped back
His wings expanded, his tail
Unfurled, and he butted
My chest with his nose
A thankful, friendly smile
Was in his eyes as he flew
Away, returning to wherever he had come from
Later, back home,
My mother started at the mingled rust and blood
On my arms
“Wash,” she ordered. “That rust could poison you.”
But there were no cuts or scratches
For the toxin to enter through.
Dragon-blood heals,
You know.
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Copyright 2009, Elyn W. Marsh. All rights reserved. Elyn W. Marsh is a teen, Home-schooled writer who lives in the Midwest. She loves authors like J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, L.B. Graham, Donita K. Paul and Brian Davis. She writes mostly fantasy, including a very rough first-draft of a novel, and many poems and short stories. She has many hobbies, including flute-playing, reading, drawing, and making stuffed dragons while listening to Disney movie soundtracks and Superchic[k]. No one can say she isn't eclectic.
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