You are a dragon, a winged lizard,
with breath that stinks and scales
that clank like metal in a sink.
Your hoary face is as wrinkled
as a crumpled black garbage bag.
It isn’t magic dust that saves me
but fortitude and choler
that smolders but does not die.
I don’t let it burn me.
I’ve learned that much.
You wiggled into places
you did not belong,
hairy and handsome,
now all lost in age and reptile skin.
I am free and alone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A 65 year old retired lawyer, Barbara Alsop has turned her wordsmithing to other usages. With a degree from the dark ages in English lit to accompany her law degree, she has embarked on the journey to express her life and times in poetry. Having spent her professional career as a public defender and an asylum officer, among other positions, she hopes in her poetry to bring to light the personal and unfortunate struggles of everyday people in finding meaning in life. She is an active member of the Burlington Writers Workshop, and her work has appeared in the 2015 Best of the Burlington Writers Workshop.