The Minutiae
By LOISE MCNEILL
I HAVE seen the dragon, spotted black and red,
Creep into the frog pool, lower his beaten head.
I have walked on mosses, known that once they were
High above the mountain, giant trees of fir.
I have caught the sea horse, dwarfed in evil form,
Thought of ocean stallions charging in the storm.
Now the silent pygmy asks with knowing eyes:
“When the dwarf hand strikes you, what will be your size?”
Creep into the frog pool, lower his beaten head.
I have walked on mosses, known that once they were
High above the mountain, giant trees of fir.
I have caught the sea horse, dwarfed in evil form,
Thought of ocean stallions charging in the storm.
Now the silent pygmy asks with knowing eyes:
“When the dwarf hand strikes you, what will be your size?”