DRAGONFEATHER: Jan 31, 2008

The Dragon clutches
the Magic Feather:
he has been torn from
her grasp more than once.
She guards him from the Wind.
The soft touch soothes the Beast:
she feels bouyant,
can't fly without him.

The Plume's
weightlessness
makes the Serpent
mountainous;
his delicate flimsiness
turns her into titanium-steel.
He only seems to bend
under the strain of her.

She uses this Quill to write
her-stories,
dips him in her ever-rushing wound
to make them
his-stories.
Embellishes, adds the Fiction
to make it seem
strange, like Truth.

The Feather
quivers,
afraid the Dragon
will discover he's
just a moulted feather,
fallen
not even from the wings of a Dove
but some dying Albatross.
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In case it wasn't obvious, the Dragon refers to Mother and the Feather refers to Father. Mother controls all that Father sees; she is his filter on reality and her filter is defective. If he were stronger, perhaps he would've been able to see things with his own eyes instead of hers. He would see THROUGH her instead of AS her.