Dragon Breath
The dragon breathes…
his breath comes out in a white mist
that spreads low across Kasterleepark…
and makes a criss-cross pattern
of icy rime on the glass outside.
Sometimes prose is better than poetry
Sometimes prose is better than poetry
The dragon breathes…
his breath comes out in a white mist
that spreads low across Kasterleepark…
and makes a criss-cross pattern
of icy rime on the glass outside.