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A silver-scaled dragon with jaws flaming red Sits at my elbow and toasts my bread. I hand him fat slices, and then, one by one, He hands them back when he sees they are done.
— William Jay Smith
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The lariat snaps; the cowboy rolls His pack, and mounts and rides away. Back to the land the cowboy goes.
Tasting of the sweet damp woods and of the rain one inch above the meadow: It was like feasting upon air.
And I’ll love you as long As the furrow the plow, As However is Ever, And Ever is Now.
And life is a rain-swept mirror Through which perpetually A girl with bright hair flowing, Dappled dark coat blowing, Into the unknown, knowing, Walks with me.
Not ringed but rare, not gilled but polyp-like, having sprung up overnight— These mushrooms of the gods, resembling human organs uprooted, rooted only on the air
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