Y Ddraig

Worm's Head

I’ve looked at it from many angles,
this two-headed serpent that the Vikings
named ‘dragon’.
 

A thirty year gaze from my own quiet shores
and then briefly, lovingly,
from yours.
 

I turn it often in my hands;
some days a smooth, silver sadness,
others a jagged saw
 

that drags at my skin
as a sharp wind claws
at Dylan’s ‘slipping stones’.
 

I watch it now

from the safety of the West,
the sun sinking behind me,
 

and as the tide begins to fall
I realise that I have never seen it
from the sea.

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Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

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