A Poem a Day (609): The politician

 
The politician
 
The dragon’s breath curls, breathes fire,
caresses the moon, carves it out,
digs with its claws til nothing remains.
 
So darkness reigns. How come we didn’t
miss the sun? Why didn’t we argue? Too long
we dithered, and the hours are now lost.
 
Time flows, but now we cannot see it.
The dragon’s breath curls, and we,
we can’t breathe.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 12, 2023