Mother of Dragons Dragons are terrible beauty; ruby-fire, sun-gold, sword-sharp silver claws and diamond dagger-teeth. You were so elegant   dressed for business.   Your manic starved slimness looked good in knit dresses.   You loved neat, classy hats. You were so impressive   raging against the demon   politicians   at 3:30 in the morning. Dragons guard created beauty (crafted golden treasure hoard) from the violent and destructive (thugs on horseback) (unenlightened Nights). You taught a generation   of third-graders   that they could do math   make art   write stories   beyond what any other teacher   let them do. Daddy   was raised in isolation.   You never let his frozen feelings   shut your children down. Dragons breath fire. Even the blood of the dragon burns. Mother   we never knew   about the disease that breathed fire   across your thoughts   We never knew   the blood of the dragon   etched into your tissues   a little more each day   long slow fire   seeping through each joint. Dragons sing beauty. Dragons are masters of ancient wisdom. Mother   at your funeral   there were distant relatives   in prosperous suits   who had come to nod   at Marjorie's expected doom   and there were a dozen   strange women   Women you had helped   in finding the path   from the shadows of the hospital   back into the world   Mother   you knew the shadows so well   Mother   you walked the path. Dragons fly. ~Anitra L. Freeman