Denise Dumars

Snapdragons

I knew one day I'd snap.

I knew the body of the lies

would weigh me down

and make me throw it off for freedom

So I became a dragon

red-breasted, black-tailed,

with a breath of fire and invective.

Scorched were they by my words

But in May even without April showers

my roses and geraniums and lilies

of the Nile and snapdragons bloomed.

I can't burn it all, now can I?

A little crisp around the edges

not unlike myself these flowers

were not perfect, were wounded

by the ups and downs of climate change

Flowers don't fear dragons

they remember dinosaurs, after all

so I put away my fiery breath, my wings

and even my glorious scales

Like thin slices of precious rubies

and instead I put on my gardening gloves

and my old tennis shoes

and went to the garden to begin.