Comments about Hazel Buckingham
And the dragon hides in bloated clouds
that bind the hills in skeins of grey.
She bides her time till break of day
to free her land from jealous shrouds.
She rises from her bed of slate and blows:
a gentle ruffling, rippling breath to break
the straps of night time’s harness;
her claws snatch at the remnant whispers
to let once-muffled sunlight flow
across the beaches, land and lakes.
Now diamonds jazz the emerald grass,
gold glisters bright in sediment rivers,
topaz sparks on cataracts’ fall
and she returns to rest till ...