The Last Dragon

For one thousand years my eye has seen.
My star green ball of glassy stone.
My eye saw fire in the skies of dawn,
my mother die, and my new child born.

I saw this hill-top its ring of stone,
dragged by men with ropes and force.
Pulled with might, on course
towards this giant and marvellous henge.

I saw my friends, and played
in magic places we made,
and swam in waters deep,
rose and lilac scented.
Pure and cold,
under golden arcs of summer sun's rays.

I saw all this, and many more days
as now I carve these words in rock,
this part of me left here today.
This fragment that will stay.
These few marks,
scratched gently with my claw,
and then I'll see no more.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.