Raising Dragons

Angrily a character in William Shakespeare’s Mid Summers Night’s Dream rejects his former love interest with a long list of insults. As a final blow he shouts, “You Acorn!”

Twisted Branches, limbs
as the koi fish swims.
Limbs be arms and legs
as the windmill spins.

Hand saw and broad-ax
dragon slayers past,
feeding the lime kilns,
fueling the cook stoves.

Canopy collapse
broken oaks busted
and bent; limbs detached.
Its gravities’ pull,
times relentless toll.
Shout out to the drought.

Slaying dragons with
an angry chainsaw.
Clearing the road of
leafless fallen limbs.
Sunlight on the ground
where shadows begin.

So grand and handsome
alone on a hill,
an oak grove of one.
Some years there’s acorns.
Some years there’s none.

If acorns are eggs
and roots little legs
that only support
the dragon that stays
watered and safe,
we need to help these
precious young oak trees.
Because some dragons
don’t live forever.


photo credits:  John Luker

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