photo with permission from Lachlan Gowen on Unsplash
Night of the Dragon
Behold the dragon, how it flows
from its tail up to its nose.
Thirty feet and thirty arms
move the dragon’s sinuous charms—
its razor teeth, its threatening frown—
through the streets of Chinatown.
On its head, a golden crown.
Its many humps move up and down,
forming valleys, growing hills
while moving over rocks and rills.
Straightening out to cross the bridges
spanning between neighboring ridges.
Never flying through the air,
rising only up the stair.
So many mortals make one beast,
one night a year to roil and feast
on errant spirits wandering out
their vile sentiments to flout,
chancing their ends once more to free
those rotten souls they used to be.
One night of all we form the back
that otherwise the dragons lack.
We form their arms and form their feet,
arousing awe in all we meet.
And thus it happens, once a year,
we become that which most we fear.
For the dVerse Poets prompt, “Dragon.”
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Wow.
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;o)
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I like the thought of being a dragon (or a part of) but I have only watched such a dragon once.
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It would be hard to be in the middle or rear, wouldn’t it?
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I love this kind of dragon, Judy! I once saw one in Chinatown in London at Chinese New Year. The imperative opening lines of your poem hooked me, and ‘thirty feet and thirty arms move the dragon’s sinuous charms’ kind of gave it away. I especially love the movement in these lines: ‘Its many humps move up and down,
forming valleys, growing hills
while moving over rocks and rills’.
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Isn’t he a cute dragon 🐉
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So redolent of our years in Soho’s Chinatown
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