Published in …And I Hear Dragons, edited by Hanan Issa, illustrated by Eric Heyman, Firefly, 2024
a dragon follows you home from the beach
driftwood in her mouth, seaweed in her claws
she smells of wild things
growls ancient words you somehow understand
she is beautiful and terrible
her belly is a fire so bright you look away
the dragon makes a nest beside your bed
you watch her from the corners of your eyes
she shifts, phantasmal
smoke curls from her nostrils
you are wary
you’ve heard, dragons can be dangerous
can grow quickly
to the size of armies with marching boots
that drive people from their homes
but this dragon is small
as a lullaby, a leafy den
she shelters mice and birds
as time goes by
you soften to her presence
look for her, even, with hope
when she is near
a spring tide wells inside you
you walk the wrack line side-by-side
collecting shells and litter
salt scales over your skin
and the dragon smiles
in fields and forests
the dragon plants seeds
reciting poems as she folds them into the earth
life blooms in her footsteps
the dragon calls on your neighbours
she is always polite
nibbles Welsh cake, baklava, tamarind balls
sips tea and kissel with a root-like tongue
while listening carefully to the chatter,
tracing the threads that weave you all together
the dragon loves stories
they make acorns fall from her eyes
you find the dragon
pressed flat between the pages of The Mabinogi
she unfurls
and leads you through tales
beautiful and terrible
that spark constellations in your mind
the dragon takes your hands
and shows you how to fly
her wings beat breath into your lungs
as you swoop over castles and cromlechs
you land in a circle of stone clocks
that you recognise from a long-ago dream
mist clings to the ground
you shiver
it is cold
and you are wary
the dragon scratches at the past
unearthing bones
that cry
of histories so terrible
you want to cover your ears and run
from the dragons fighting and dying on bloody
battlefields
from the dragons sitting on hoards built of suffering
from the dragons taking too much; poisoning the land,
the rivers, the air
from the dragons spitting rocks and fire at their
neighbours
from the dragons turning their backs on those in need
dragons can be dangerous, you roar
a flame so bright and searing
it scorches a warning into the future
an acorn falls from your eye
the dragon catches it
recites a poem as she folds it into the earth
you take each other’s hands
and fly
into unwritten songs
there is a dragon under your ribs
she makes a nest of wild things around your heart
and holds stories
beautiful and terrible
to light your way
as you soar through the night
Sophie Anderson 