There... above the hills
And over the star filled lake,
Your great shadow passes
Blacking out the moon.
The sound of your heavy wings,
Likened only to a slow swinging pendulum,
Make my ears throb.
I cover them
And silently scream.
Why do I crouch here underneath your presence?
I am paralyzed and yet filled
With a strange desire.
The flame will engulf me.
A relief it shall be as waiting
For you has been torture enough.
I picture your great claws
Tearing my skin,
Imagining the instant before my neck breaks,
The instant your teeth bare down
On my back,
The moment you break me
And throw me down.
I am left a wisp of smoke
The memory of fire
A wraith haunting the valley
Watching for your shadow and waiting
For the sound of your wings.

By Michele Durrett