A Small Dragon
I've found a small dragon in the woodshed.
Think it must have come from deep inside a forest
because it's damp and green and leaves
are still reflecting in its eyes.
I fed it on many things, tried grass,
the roots of stars, hazel-nut and dandelion,
but it stared up at me as if to say, I need
food you can't provide.
It made a nest among the coal,
not unlike a bird's but larger.
It is out of place here
and is quite silent.
If you believed in it I would come
hurrying to your house to let you share my wonder,
but I want instead to see
if you yourself will pass this way.
While letting the internet remind me of how this one goes (my book of poetry is elsewhere right now) I discovered a Garcia Lorca poem I'd not read before, which is staggering. Poetry is good.