A Morning Memory

A short poem I wrote for my creative writing club.

dawn approaches

over the canyon.

the wind picks up,

and the wooden windmills

creak to life

before It appears -

slicing through the gray clouds

with Its black claws.

fire blazes beneath Its white scales,

which glitter in the rising sun.

Its red curved horns emit a blinding glare,

washing the canyon

in golden light.

eyes glow an icy blue, unblinking

and meet the eyes of a lone traveler

taking in the sunrise.

It continues onward,

floating through the air,

Its body curving, undulating -

swimming through the sky silently,

leaving the traveler

with a warm memory.