The lights in the neighborhood
are slowly turning on.
People are outside their homes.
There are trees fallen in the road,
mailboxes turned over. Our headlights shine
on the eyes of the dragon,
still standing with its slippery tongue out,
but as we pull in we see something
we can’t believe.
The front porch is broken,
smashed into the ground.
Shoes sprinkle through
broken boards.