Poem: Pendragon


Two dragons fighting, each alike, 
One red, one white, with fired eyes. 
Beneath the mud they roar and claw, 
Beneath a mask they grow in size.

Mouth to tail, wing to wing, 
They circle Sparks, each slithering. 
Pounding feet against the mind, 
Dread beat, dread song, dread withering. 

Round and round they make their marks, 
Round and round, they march and march. 
Loose their flesh, loose their bones, 
Loose their teeth, loose their toes. 

Which shall win? Nobody knows. 
Weak the battle; weak the nose. 
Weak their ever wretched lows. 
And who might save them from such throws?

Not I, nor you, nor someone else. 
But why? Why not? Nobody knows!
For while they circle toe to toe, 
They quarrel each alone.  

-Amber JoAnn