wandering these barren wastes I fear there be dragons
relicts of primordial seas, I hear: there be dragons

behind the ruined walls, before whose gates
the gallant dead hold scorched earth for a bier, there be dragons

asleep in golden barrows lined with spires
and spears of stone, each one an ancient seer there be dragons

now through the round of lesser signs, the stars
again align: it is the twelfth, the year there be dragons

a corral of wild horses, storm clouds gather:
in gusts where thunder sounds and lightning sears there be dragons

eagle-eyed above the grasslands soaring
then comets driving down the artic deer, there be dragons

the molten core and rings of fire, magnetic
fields and monsters from the deep make clear there be dragons

like those who trek the heights of summer snow
sailors on the ocean wind may cheer: “There be dragons!”

as the morning sky upswells with birds
in song and raucous flight, know somewhere near there be dragons

Scott C. Wells is a professor of medieval history at California State University, Los Angeles.    His academic writings have been published by Brill, Ashgate, Palgrave, and Cambridge University Press.  His chapbook, Persons and Places, is available at Skylight Books in L.A.