Ice Dragon

Ice dragon
rears into
the soft
of my heart
again,

fanged and
shivering,
old enemy,
old friend.

How well it
knows me,
finds just the
right place

to divide me.

I turn blue,
live in an igloo,
drinking
frozen tears.

Suddenly it
leaves,
my igloo melts,

I’m thrown into
Summer again.

So much gold
after only blue

I am blinded
and I cannot
remember
how to live
without
a coat.

I wasn’t sure about the end of this one- I kept fiddling with it. Any feedback on whether the poem breaks up and where that happens would be helpful.

White Moon and Rose

The white moon
weeps the
color of night

and each of your
tears
is a star
upon the floor.

Red-eyed birds
sing
to your
red, raw heart

and take wing
in the rose-colored
morning.

Though
the color of night
still dreams on
your skin

dawn
dresses you
in softer
pink skirts.

Don’t be afraid
to carry them
both

the pines will
know

one who loves
still walks
in this world.